by S. C. Ransom
They exchanged glances and the first one shrugged. “Well, you seem all right now. But, please, if you start to feel dizzy at all, call someone and go to the hospital, OK?”
“I will, and thank you for all your help, but I’m feeling much better,” I lied with a small smile.
I finally managed to get away, clutching Beesley’s lead tightly. I walked as carefully as I could, not letting him run ahead at all. He seemed to know that I wasn’t going to take any nonsense, and walked sedately by my side. I left the golf course and went across the road to the little park where the men wouldn’t be able to see me, and sank on to the nearest bench. My cheek was really smarting and it was difficult to move my upper arm, but all of that paled into comparison with the throbbing in my head. I was going to have to go home pretty soon to get some painkillers. First though, I needed to call Callum. I wanted to feel his soothing touch and to know that he was around to warn me of any further attacks. “Callum, can you hear me? I’m in the playground.”
I sat trying to catch my breath as I waited for him to arrive, not daring to shut my eyes. I had no idea where Catherine had gone, so I couldn’t be sure that she wouldn’t come back for another go. I just knew it was her, and I realised I should have gone straight home where I would be safe. But I consoled myself with the knowledge that Callum would be able to warn me if she came close again.
“You keep a better eye out next time, you daft dog,” I scolded Beesley, jiggling his soft ears. Callum was taking his time, I thought, but maybe Olivia slowed him down. I reached into my back pocket for my little mirror, but had to stop. “Oww, that hurts!” I exclaimed out loud, gingerly putting my right arm back down into my lap. I managed to ease the mirror out with my left arm, and finally set it up on my knee. There was no sign of either Callum or Olivia behind me.
“That’s a bit strange, don’t you think, Beesley?” He looked up hopefully at his name, but then realised I wasn’t about to move, so he flopped down with his wet nose on his paws. It had never taken Callum so long to reach me before. I reached for the amulet as I called again. “Callu…” My voice failed me as I realised that I couldn’t feel the amulet in its usual place.
With a gasp of panic I finally put together what had happened. I wrenched back my sleeve and couldn’t help crying out in horror. My amulet was gone, just a tan line and scratches on my skin showing where it used to be. Catherine had stolen my only link to Callum.
Barely holding myself together, I staggered home. Catherine hadn’t been trying to kill me, she had just wanted me unconscious for long enough to be able to steal my amulet. She had taken it and I had no idea of where she might go or how I was ever going to get it back.
I had to stay calm, at least for a little while. I knew that I needed to tidy myself up a bit before I could take Beesley back to his house. Overwhelmed with the excitement of the afternoon he had gone to sleep almost immediately, and I left him snoring gently on the rug in front of the sofa. Up in the bathroom I surveyed the damage. My lip was swollen where my teeth had bitten it as I fell, and there was a huge graze across my cheekbone from the gravel. A lump the size of a small egg was rising just behind my ear, and I was glad I’d kept back some of the ice from treating Josh’s hand the night before. I carefully peeled off my shirt and gasped when I saw the bruise that was blooming across my upper arm and shoulder. Bright red, it showed the imprint of a golf-club head where it first hit and then scraped up and off the edge of my shoulder towards my head. If I hadn’t been in the process of standing up, her swing would have caught me fully just by my ear, and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have got up again after that. It was excruciating, and I wasn’t entirely sure that I believed what I had told the golfers. Something didn’t feel quite right, but I was able to move my arm in most directions. I ran a couple of flannels under the cold tap then laid them across it, letting the damp cloth cool the inflamed skin.
All the time I was sorting out the practical details of making myself presentable I forced back the screaming panic that was desperate to escape. I washed my face and changed out of my bloodstained shirt into a soft top with long sleeves and a collar. It was far too warm to wear on a hot summer’s day, but it covered up all the bruises. The lump was hidden by my hair. I checked myself in the mirror again. I looked white and strained, and there was no escaping the fact that I had hurt my face. I was just going to have to lie my way out of it.
Downstairs Beesley had moved from the rug to the sofa and was pretending to be asleep. But his furiously wagging tail gave him away and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him off. I gathered everything together and clipped on his lead to take him home. I obviously looked worse than I had hoped; Lynda visibly recoiled when she opened the front door.
“My goodness, Alex, whatever’s happened? Are you OK?”
“Oh, I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to look as sheepish as possible. “I was just running with Beesley and he pulled me over. I got my hands all tangled up in the lead so I ended up falling face down. I feel like a complete lemon.” I kept my face averted as if I was embarrassed, hoping that she wouldn’t ask too much more about it.
“Oh, you poor thing! Have you got some antiseptic to put on those scratches? I’m sure I have some upstairs somewhere.”
“No, honestly, don’t worry. Mum has an entire cupboard full of first-aid supplies. I swear she could deal with a major incident with all the stuff she insists we need.” I smiled at her, trying really hard not to wince as I did so.
“Well, I’m really sorry that your good deed ended so badly.” She took Beesley’s lead and looked at him sternly. “You mustn’t pull people over, Beesley. You nearly did that to me the other day.” Luckily he didn’t seem to understand that he was getting told off, and jumped up at her, licking her hands and barking happily.
“It absolutely wasn’t Beesley’s fault, truly. I’d love to come and take him out again if you don’t mind.”
“If you’re sure,” she said hesitantly. “Come round whenever you want to.”
I smiled again briefly, then bent down to pat the dog’s head. Reaching out with my arm was getting more painful, but I managed to bite back a gasp just in time. “See you, Beesley. Bye, Lynda.” I turned quickly and walked as carefully as I could down her drive and round to our house. Josh’s car was still missing, so I knew that I had the place to myself. I shut the door carefully behind me, and the anger and grief that had been building for the last half an hour finally overwhelmed me. Sinking to my knees I banged my fists on the hall floor, howling. The tears came thick and fast, mingling with the blood that had started to drip from my lip again. Catherine had promised to make my life a misery and she had succeeded. I sat back, holding my knees tight to my chest and let the grief take me.
I lifted my head when I heard the sound of tyres on the gravel outside, and was able to rouse myself just in time to be sitting at the kitchen table when Josh bounced through the door. He was in a good mood, humming a tune as he slammed the front door.
“Anyone in?” he bellowed as he made his way into the kitchen, then stopped dead as he saw me. He was at my side in an instant.
“Alex? What on earth have you done?” He gently moved my hair behind my ear, and I heard the sharp intake of breath as he saw the state of my face. I was torn about what to tell him. He had met Catherine and so knew how malignant she could be, but on the other hand I could just expand on the falling-over story. It would be much quicker and less messy than trying to explain the truth. I had spent the previous hour trying to come to a decision, but now, looking at him, I knew what I had to do: I needed help.
“I was mugged. Out on the golf course when I was walking Beesley.”
“But who would do that? And what did they mug you for? What did they take?”
I hesitated for a second, but then went for it. “I think it was the woman from last night – Catherine.” As I told him I could see the shock cross his face.
“Your mystery stalker?” I nodded mutely. “But why?” he pressed a
gain.
“She stole my bracelet,” I said bleakly, lifting my arm to show him the scratches where she had ripped the amulet from my wrist.
“Are you sure it was her? Did you see her?”
“No. She knocked me out from behind with a golf club and when I came round, the bracelet was gone. Some guys saw a woman running away from the scene, and I can’t think of anyone else who would want to hurt me. It has to be her.”
“Are you hurt?”
“I think I’m OK. I was really lucky that one of the men who found me was a doctor, and he checked me out there and then.”
“Don’t you think you should get an X-ray? Something could be broken.”
“Really, no. I’ll be fine. I just need to take some paracetamol and stay quiet for a bit.”
“OK, you have a bit of a rest and then we can call the police. This woman has got to be stopped!” He slapped his palm down on the table and the noise made me jump.
“No,” I said quietly. “No police. I need to sort this out with her on my own.”
He snorted dismissively. “That’s ridiculous. This girl is seriously dangerous. She’s making your life a misery, she’s stolen from you – twice – and now she’s nearly killed you. You can’t possibly sort it out yourself!”
“No police,” I repeated quietly, shaking my head carefully, then wincing as pain shot across my head just behind my eyes.
Josh sat back in his chair and looked at me shrewdly. “Alex, what the hell is going on? What does she know?”
“She knows a lot of stuff about me. A lot of stuff. I can’t risk her going to the police.”
“But—”
“Please,” I interrupted. “Believe me. She has information, and lots of it, that would make the police believe that I knew all about the loss of my money. I’ll get done for perverting the cause of justice or something.”
“Did you have anything to do with it?” He peered at me intently.
“No, nothing! Everything is just – just too difficult to explain at the moment. Please believe me,” I whispered, trying hard not to cry.
Josh was suddenly out of his chair and pacing up and down the kitchen, the creaky old floorboards protesting as he stomped across them. “She’s got a nerve, that woman, coming here and making you so miserable.” I turned to watch him but the movement caught me off guard and I cried out in pain before I could stop myself. He was back at the table in an instant, leaning across and looking at me intently. “I think you’re wrong; you should be going to the hospital for an X-ray,” he said gently. “But I’m not going to make you do that, or go to the police. I wish you’d tell me the truth, though.”
“I’m sorry, I would if I could, but it’s all a bit too … weird. Please just trust me,” I pleaded.
“OK, if that’s what you want. But I’m going to get on the Web and see what it says about concussion, then at least I can keep an eye on you.”
After that he disappeared for a while to do his research and I made myself comfortable on the sofa with some terrible children’s TV programme. He reappeared briefly with some ultra-strong painkillers I’d been prescribed when I’d crashed and wrecked my bicycle. Before long I was sound asleep.
I was woken by the smell of burning and some very loud swearing; Josh was trying to cook dinner. I levered myself into an upright position and moved my head from side to side experimentally. It all seemed to work, and the painkillers were still doing their stuff. I could even move my arm without wincing too much. But without the pain of my injuries to distract me, the pain in my heart became much, much harder to bear.
I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. It was not the time to let it go; I had to keep everything under control. Wincing slightly, I made my way to the kitchen where I met a wall of smoke. I looked around and saw half the contents of the fridge spread across the work surface. From the wreckage it looked as if Josh had been attempting bacon and eggs. He glanced up from where he was standing in front of the hob. “Umm, yes, sorry about the mess. I thought I’d do dinner for us both but it’s not gone well.”
I tried to smile. “Thanks for the thought, Josh, but really, I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat.”
“You sound like Mum. Honestly, I’m not even slightly hungry; I think maybe it’s the painkillers. I’ll probably have some cereal before bedtime.” I lifted the lid that was covering the frying pan and wrinkled my nose. “Don’t let me stop you, though; this looks delicious.”
Josh laughed as he took the blackened mess from me and tipped it into the bin. “Perhaps cereal is a good idea, or maybe beans on toast.”
I smiled gratefully at him and slipped away up to my room. I couldn’t resist sitting at my desk and peering in the mirror, my hand clenched around my wrist where the amulet should have been. I sat there for ages, hoping that I would see some sort of movement, some indication that he was there, but there was nothing. “Callum?” I whispered forlornly. “Can you hear me? I can’t tell if you’re there or not, but I’m sure you must be nearby. I want to tell you that I’m going to find Catherine, and fight her if I need to. I will get the amulet back!”
A knock on my bedroom door made me jump. I hastily wiped my eyes as I answered. “Come in, Josh.”
“It’s not Josh, it’s me. You said I could come over, remember? I need to talk to you.” Grace’s voice faltered as she took in the state of my face. I was glad that I was still wearing the long-sleeved shirt so she couldn’t see the worst bruises. “Josh told me what’s happened. He said it was that girl,” she continued, trying not to stare. “The one from last night.”
“Well, I didn’t actually see her but witnesses saw a woman running off, and I can’t see who else would do something like this.”
“Alex, you have to go to the police, this has to stop! She’s completely mad!”
I looked at Grace, my best friend in the world, and wondered what she would say, what she would do, if I were to tell her the truth. She would be sympathetic, of that I was sure, and supportive. But without the amulet as proof, I realised, she would also be very, very dubious. I had nothing with which I could convince her that I wasn’t totally crazy.
“I can’t go to the police, and I can’t tell you why. It’s far too … too…” I struggled for the right word. “Difficult. I need you to trust me on this.” I looked up at her, hoping that she would believe me.
“Alex, I trust you completely, you know that, but I can’t sit by and watch you get hurt. She could have killed you – she still could!”
“She has what she wanted.” My voice was flat as I tried to keep the emotion down. I held out my empty wrist towards her.
“Your bracelet? What on earth would she want with that? I mean, I know it’s beautiful, but why is it worth such violence?”
Grace’s voice faded away and she stared at the floor for a moment, then she took a deep breath and looked up. “You have to tell me what’s going on, Alex – about Catherine, and about Callum. That’s why I wanted to talk to you tonight.” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her bag and handed it to me. I took it, momentarily distracted from my problem. It was a page torn from a magazine and my heart sank as I smoothed out the final fold. The face I had told her was Callum’s was staring out at me in glossy technicolour. The article alongside explained how the teenager from Leeds had got his first big modelling break. His name was Douglas Day.
I shut my eyes and massaged my temples. Could things get any worse? My traumatised brain was desperately trying to think of an excuse, something that Grace would believe, when she spoke again softly.
“Please don’t lie to me again, Alex. Can’t I help you?”
I crumpled. It was just too hard, too complicated to keep up the charade with Grace. “I do so want to tell you everything,” I admitted, hiccuping between sobs, “but I don’t think you’re going to believe me and without the bracelet, I’ve got no proof.”
“Try me,” she urged, gently lifting my chin and making me look at her. “It
’s me, remember? You can tell me anything.”
The thought of being able to explain, of not having to keep everything secret, was almost overwhelming. I suddenly realised quite how much I hated having to bottle it all up; I wanted her to know, and to understand, everything.
“I don’t know where to start,” I whispered, shoulders slumping.
Grace’s voice became firm. “Well, let’s try with Callum. This isn’t him, is it?” She pointed to the piece of paper that was lying forgotten on my lap.
“No,” I agreed. “It does look a bit like him, though.”
“So there is a Callum?”
“Yes, definitely. I just can’t show you a picture of him, and you were getting insistent, so I thought…” My voice petered out, ashamed.
“Why not? Why won’t he have his picture taken? What’s the matter with him?”
“Look, before I tell you, you must promise me something.” I gazed at her through my tears.
“Anything. Just ask.”
“You have to believe me. Everything I’m about to tell you is the truth, but a lot of it is – well, weird. And I can’t prove any of it.”
“Try me,” she said, with an encouraging but nervous smile as she sat back on the futon. “Tell me everything.”
“My bracelet – the one that’s been stolen – isn’t just a bracelet. It acts as a kind of key, it lets me— Oh, you’re never going to believe me. It sounds so ridiculous!”
“Calm down. I promised, didn’t I? Come on, just tell me.”
I steeled myself with a deep breath. “Callum is a ghost. He drowned in the River Fleet ages ago.”
Grace’s mouth fell open and she looked at me incredulously for several long seconds. “You see, I said you wouldn’t believe me,” I muttered.
Finally she recovered herself. “Well, you can hardly blame me; it wasn’t exactly what I thought you were going to say, but come on, tell me more. I want to understand.” She was trying hard, I could see that, but the fact that her eyes kept darting away from mine gave her away. She thought I was mad.