Lonely House

by Collins, James

  ‘But you ain’t. You don’t do that.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Pete, I mean, look at you.’ Drover realises where he is going with this and stops himself. Yes, Pete is a bit ‘special’ but he has so much good in him. That’s what’s special about him. Drover has come low enough to care more for a phone than a person. He’s not going to make Pete feel bad by reminding him he’s backward.

  He takes a breath. ‘I’m the one who’ll go down for this. There’s only one way out, Pete.’

  Pete is not convinced. Drover can see it.

  The light in the room changes again. It starts to brighten. The sun has found a gap though the trees and throws the boys a last-gasp ray of hope before darkness comes.

  ‘Think of it, Pete. No-one knows we were here. No-one cares about us. We left a squat, we got no family, you and me, we only got each other, right? This guy is in with bad people. We heard him. So, when someone does find him they’re gunna reckon that one of the Bucklands killed him. We’ll take some money. It’ll look like a burglary gone wrong, or a contract. By the time anyone finds him we’ll be miles away. Just need to clean off prints in the kitchen and we’re out of here. Yeah?’

  Sunlight falls on Pete’s face and it melts Drover’s heart. He is looking so lost, so confused. He is lifting his round brown eyes towards his only friend and there are tears in them. Tears and trust. Drover knows these will be tears for the man who just lost his life. He’s that soppy a kid is Pete. He knows he will be confused because he won’t want anything to happen to Drover, but he will also want the right thing to be done.

  ‘This is the right thing,’ Drover says, and sees Pete’s eyes glint in the growing sunlight.

  ‘If you are sure, Drover,’ Pete says, and sniffs.

  ‘We stick together, us mates, don’t we?’ Pete nods. ‘We do anything for each other, don’t we?’ Pete nods harder, and looks at the body on the ground. ‘Trust me, Pete.’

  ‘But, Drover…’ He is faltering. It’s the sight of the body.

  ‘What, what do I have to do to get you to trust me? What?’

  Pete looks up at him, those deep brown eyes now glistening in the sunlight that is growing brighter by the second. Drover looks down. He knows what Pete wants from him but he’s not able to give it. Instead, he holds Pete’s face in his two hands.

  ‘Sure, it’ll be okay, Pete,’ he says, seriously. Then he smiles. He lets go of Pete’s face and taps his cheek once. ‘So, you can stop that noise.’

  ‘I’m not making a noise,’ Pete says.

  Something is making a quiet droning sound and Drover can’t figure out what it is. He pulls away from Pete and notices that his friend is now smiling. Easy to manipulate, problem solved. But what’s that noise? A continuous hum, and now mixed with an uneven crunching sound, both growing louder. And how come the sun is coming up again so fast? A line of bright light is slowly creeping up the wall from floor to ceiling, and it is getting brighter. Louder. Brighter.

  With a sickening shock Drover realises what’s going on. He turns to face the window and the approaching headlights. He shields his eyes.

  ‘Oh, shit.’

  Eight

  ‘HOW SHOULD I KNOW?’ Myles protests as he negotiates the bumpy track that leads to the house. ‘Lily, for the last time, sit back!’

  Lily is between the two front seats watching the house grow larger in the windscreen. She is pretending to be excited about seeing grandpa, mainly because she knows this evening is all going to be about charades and she wants to get some practice in, but secretly she is watching her mother and can tell she is nervous. And so she should be.

  A little while ago, as they had turned from the main road on to the start of the long track, Pam had started sorting out the contents of her bag, again. Lily had watched her closely, squinting in the fading light. Outside, the forest had become more solid. It was swallowing them.

  ‘Why did you bring your phone?’ Myles had asked as Pam rummaged in her bag and took out her mobile.

  ‘Why did you bring yours?’ She had frowned at the lack of signal.

  ‘Because you told me to ring dad and make sure…’

  ‘I told you to do that this morning. You didn’t. You waited until we were on the road and then you decided to call him.’

  ‘I still called him!’

  ‘While you were driving a car? Do you not understand how illegal that is?’

  Not to mention dangerous, Lily had thought, with your one and only dear child in the back seat, not that you would bother about that. Either of you.

  ‘So? I have mine. You didn’t need yours,’ Myles had tried to reason.

  ‘Work,’ was all Pam had said, and that, Lily knew, meant ‘end of conversation.’

  ‘Work isn’t going to call you on a day off, are they?’ Myles had countered.

  Lily had been almost impressed by the way he had been biting back. Usually he wouldn’t have dared. It must have been because tonight was such a special night, she had thought, and Myles had known that he had the upper hand for once.

  ‘They might,’ Pam had replied, still searching through her bag. ‘Hell.’ She had held the phone up to look at it more closely.

  ‘No signal?’ Myles had sounded like he was smirking.

  That’s going to get you a real telling off, Lily had thought and had sat up. If her parents were going to fight she wanted to see it all; it was her only entertainment.

  ‘Signal is intermittent,’ Pam had muttered. ‘That’s okay, but the battery is draining.’ She had taken her police identification from her bag and had put it on the seat beside her, pushing it under her thigh to keep it safe.

  ‘Charger was in the kitchen.’

  ‘Thank you, Myles. “Was” is not helping. Damn.’ She had taken out her purse and a pack of tissues. ‘I was sure I put it in here.’

  ‘You should have got the same as me,’ Myles had said. He definitely was smirking. Lily could hear it in his voice. ‘My charger fits the cigarette lighter. You could have borrowed it.’

  The car had picked up speed, as if celebrating Myles’ triumph.

  ‘Got it with you have you?’

  Lily had kicked the back of her father’s chair and Myles went silent.

  Pam had thrown him a look. ‘Really? Oh, brilliant, Myles.’

  ‘It’s in the kitchen, too,’ he had said meekly, and Lily could imagine that the smile had been wiped, if not seriously scrubbed, from his face.

  The car had slowed down.

  Lily had sighed, disappointedly. This back and forth wasn’t heading towards an argument, these two weren’t going to flare up dramatically at each other as they had been doing more often in recent days. With no entertainment Lily was bored.

  ‘How much further is it?’

  ‘You ask that every time at this point, Lil,’ Myles had said too sweetly, and had laughed. But she could tell it was a false laugh thrown in there to cover his embarrassment. ‘Still a mile or so. Nearly there though.’

  The setting sun had fingered through the tree tops, desperately trying to reach the forest floor. Lily had been gazing at it, fed up, when Pam had taken out a heavy knife and had put it carefully on the dashboard. The knife had rested there, its patterned, dark-wood handle contrasting with the gleaming, razor sharp six inch blade. The atmosphere in the car had changed in a heartbeat. The air had become icy, as if the cold glint from the steel knife had radiated outwards, chilling everyone within sight. Lily had been scared. She had felt as if someone else had just stepped into the car with them.

  She could see her mother’s bag was now more or less empty; a driving license, some envelopes, junk mail probably, the house keys. She had seen her put her identification back in the bag, and then her purse, and then she had put her mobile phone in the glove compartment and had
turned her attention to the knife. She had seen Myles’ head move to look at it as he had slowed down to manoeuvre the car through a deep rut in the track, the exhaust scraping beneath.

  With her arm bouncing as the car had bumped along, Pam had picked up the knife by its handle and had shuddered. She had looked over her shoulder. ‘Lily, sit back.’

  Lily had. She hadn’t wanted to be near her mother when she had a knife in her hand. She could easily have turned back and thrust it. Lily had cowered into the corner as far from Pam as she could get.

  ‘What’s that for?’ she had asked, and her throat was dry. Her confidence had deserted her. It had been accompanying her like a friend, helping her to feel secure about what was to happen later that night, but then, as soon as it saw Pam holding a sharp implement, it had scarpered. Who could blame it?

  ‘It’s…’ Pam faltered.

  Lily had been very worried. Pam never faltered.

  ‘A gift,’ Myles had said. ‘Tonight is all about gifts. This is for your grandfather.’

  ‘Will he want it?’ Lily had asked nervously, unconvinced.

  She had watched as Pam had put the knife back in her bag and, when it was out of sight, had felt safer. She had sat up again and had leaned between the front seats as the track ahead had narrowed further and the trees had presented only a wall of black. She had kept one eye on the bag.

  ‘Nearly there,’ Myles had said.

  Pam had zipped up the black plastic (nine-ninety-nine) handbag and had folded her hands across it in a way that Lily had seen many little old women do. But her mother wasn’t that old, even if she was little. There were a few lines around her eyes now, and her face was powdered to cover some pits and pocks from her youth, as Lily guessed even Pam must have had a youth, and she smelled slightly of washing powder. But she was fit, and lean, strong and in no way could you call her an old lady. She wasn’t wearing anything particularly old or young today, and nothing special for a birthday party either. A trouser suit in black and a purple shirt thing underneath that looked like the colour of raspberry yoghurt. Not a nice colour Lily had thought. Her hair was in work mode though, as if she meant business. It was pulled back, fiercely tight, showing off her wide brow and those anorexic eyebrows she liked to pluck. No actually, eyebrows that she got masochistic pleasure in plucking. They were about as thin as her lips and, with that deep purple, varicose vein coloured lipstick, her lips were just as dark as the look on her face.

  ‘Sit back.’ Pam had clutched her bag more tightly.

  ‘Who gives their dad a knife for his birthday?’ Lily had mused, ignoring her mother but with that one eye still warily on the bag. ‘How old is he today anyway?’

  ‘Old enough,’ Myles had said as he flicked on the headlights. He and Pam had shared a smile.

  They had actually shared a smile. Seeing it, Lily had known for sure that this was no ordinary day. But then she had known that for a long time. She had known for years that something was to happen on this day.

  She had thought back.

  ‘Grandpa’s birthday on Lily’s eighteenth,’ her father had often said. ‘That’s going to be a special day for us Lily.’ She had been in the garden with him. Mother had been ‘mummy’ then and working in her new job at the police station. Myles had started working from home, doing whatever it was he did, something to do with accounts, and Lily had been happy in those days.

  ‘Why special?’ she had asked.

  ‘Ah ha,’ Myles had said. ‘You will have to wait and see.’ He had always said something like that when she asked. ‘You’ve only ten years to wait.’ And then it became nine, then eight, seven, like some dragged out countdown, but Lily was never told to what. Only that it was going to be a special year.

  ‘Eighteenth birthdays can be special in my family,’ Myles had said on some later occasion. Pam was working longer hours by then, keen on doing overtime, and it was as if the absence of her in the house had given Myles more freedom to talk to his daughter. When Pam was at home it was like being at school. When it was just Lily and her father is was like being on holiday. They had been in the garden, sitting on the grass having a picnic with dolls.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I swear that was your first word,’ Myles had said, and laughed. ‘Always “why” with you isn’t it? Well,’ he had said, and had pulled her close as if he was about to tell a secret. But then he had turned cold and had looked away.

  ‘It just is.’

  His tone had changed, as if he had realised that he was getting too close, or had been about to say something he shouldn’t.

  ‘What was special about your eighteenth birthday?’ she had asked, and had traced his moustache with a finger. He had had a moustache then, briefly. Pam had allowed a trial period but the moustache had not been accepted as permanent.

  ‘Ah,’ he had said. ‘Actually I was away at school on my eighteenth.’

  He had looked off across the garden and sadness had crept over his face.

  ‘Our two birthdays didn’t coincide. I missed out.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘Everything.’

  And he had never been back to the subject.

  But Lily had, and over the years she had put two and two together. She had secretly read the book that Myles had borrowed from grandpa that time, and now its texts were locked into her memory. She had seen the preparations for this big day, her starvation diet, the knife, her parents’ deteriorating behaviour. She had known what was coming, and now, as the car had turned the last corner and she had seen the house approach, she had known that they would all soon have their answers, one way or the other. Tonight was going to be no ordinary night.

  ‘Who on earth is that?’ Pam had said.

  ‘Who?’ Myles had lent forward and had peered through the windscreen.

  ‘There, in the sitting room. That’s not William.’

  ‘No it’s not. And his car isn’t there either.’

  ‘Well who is it?’ she had persisted, as if Myles would have known.

  ‘How should I know?’ Myles protests as he negotiates the bumpy track that leads to the house. ‘Lily, sit back!’

  She is about to flop back into the seat when the headlights light up the front of the house and her heart skips a beat. She sits bolt upright as a young man’s face is lit up in the sitting room window. Her memory flashes to the painting, the face in the upstairs window. There is some kind of connection. A surprise for her birthday? Yes! Grandpa has found her a boy to meet. But who is he?

  Whoever he is, he is handsome, as far as she can see from that distance. He’s got a round face, he looks a bit oafish and his head looks too big for his body, but he’s a boy. He might be about Lily’s age (older would be nicer) and he is not someone Lily recognises, but he is in grandpa’s house.

  But then she sees he is not alone. Another boy, well, man, is standing with him, his mouth open, staring towards the car and shielding his eyes from the headlights. She can’t see his face properly but that doesn’t matter. She will soon. She is excited. There are going to be boys at grandpa’s party.

  She tries to get a closer look but the car swings to the right and along, past the front of the house, away from the windows and around to the side. Myles brings it to a stop, blocking the garage door and yanks on the handbrake.

  ‘Does anyone else know about today?’ Pam asks urgently.

  ‘Like who?’

  ‘Who are grandpa’s friends?’ Lily asks, and reaches for the door.

  ‘Be quite and sit back. No, don’t get out yet.’

  Pam’s tone stops her, and Lily thinks.

  She needs to keep her wits about her if she is to see her plan through, and it is easier to do what Pam says than to cause an argument. Besides, she doesn’t want to provoke her, not with that knife in the bag.


  ‘Who is it, Myles?’

  ‘Well, we could go and ask,’ he suggests, and puts his hand on the door handle.

  ‘No, think,’ Pam says. ‘Who else might know about today.’ She points to her wristwatch.

  ‘No-one. There is no-one,’ Myles says. ‘No other family, no-one else would know. Cold feet?’

  Pam gives him a look that could strip wallpaper and he blanches.

  ‘It’s supposed to be just us, isn’t it?’ Pam asks.

  ‘What is?’ Lily chips in from the back, unable to resist stirring the pot slightly.

  ‘Stop it, child.’ her mother yaps.

  ‘Just us for your birthday, Lil.’ Myles starts to turn to her but Pam’s steely fingered grip on his arm holds him back.

  ‘You didn’t check?’

  ‘I had no chance,’ he says. Lily notices how he unwraps his wife’s fingers from his arm, slowly, deliberately. If he yanked hard he could break her finger. ‘You were in such a panic about it all.’

  ‘I don’t want her to miss her chance,’ Pam says, and her voice is so tight, so pointed, that Lily thinks she could take someone’s eye out with one word. Pam’s back in control, and she’s not happy.

  ‘It has to be done tonight. The dates coincide. You know how rare that is.’

  ‘Of course, I do,’ Myles hisses back.

  ‘So, you didn’t think to check who else might know?’ Pam’s voice falls to a whisper and she leans in to Myles so Lily can’t hear clearly, though she tries very hard. ‘What if someone else tries to get it?’

  ‘Get what?’ Lily asks. But no one answers. Her parents just huddle more closely and whisper more quietly.

  After some more hissed and spat words, they break apart and look at each other for a moment and then everything has changed. Pam turns to face Lily and she is smiling. Lily expects trouble.