Lonely House

by Collins, James

  Pete doesn’t know what to say. He wants to go to the toilet.

  ‘That’s a boring song,’ Lily says, still laughing. ‘Only Grandpa would have such a boring song as his ringtone.’

  ‘Be quiet Lily,’ Pam barks. ‘What’s it doing under there?’ She directs that at Myles as if he should know. He doesn’t, and so just shrugs uselessly again. ‘There is something very wrong here.’

  Pete feels the truth inside him and it’s burning. He needs to get it out. It’s like he’s going to be sick but what is going to come out are words, and not lies either but decent, truthful words. It’s the best thing to do; it’s the only thing to do. Tell them what happened. They will understand. Drover is not here, he can’t stop Pete now. He feels the words bubbling up in his throat, feels his lungs draw in a breath ready to push them out.

  “Yes, you have a secret you hide.”

  He starts to talk.

  ‘It was me…’

  ‘Jesus, didn’t I tell him that was where it probably was.’ Drover is in the room.

  ‘What?’ says Pam, and finally shuts the thing off.

  ‘He said he’d dropped it. I said, probably down the side of the sofa. He wasn’t bothered, said he hated the thing,’

  ‘That sounds like Dad,’ Myles says, and snorts a laugh.

  ‘That sounds suspicious to me,’ Pam says, her eyes on Pete. ‘What were you going to say?’

  Pete swallows. He can feel Drover standing behind him. He knows he must not tell the truth but it would be so easy and feel so much better. It would be the right thing to do. Just say it. It was an accident, that’s all she needs to hear and this sick, guilty feeling inside will go away.

  ‘Pete,’ says Drover, his hand on Pete’s shoulder now. ‘What was you going to say?’

  And that hand feels good on his shoulder. Pete feels comforted, he feels safe now. Drover has done so much for him, it would be wrong to tell the truth now; the truth would get him into trouble. He has to do whatever needs to be done to save Drover from going away to prison. He feels his friend’s hand squeeze his shoulder, but he does it gently. And that squeeze holds the promise of so many things. The funfair, the future, their friendship.

  If only Pete can carry on lying. If only he can make himself change just a little, for Drover. He can do that, he decides, at least for now. He can do it for his friendship.

  ‘Go on, boy,’ the woman urges. ‘What were you about to say?’

  ‘It was me who said it was probably lost in here.’ Pete starts slowly. ‘We was outside doing stuff around the back, sweeping up the leaves, they are all falling off the trees you see, well some of them.’ His voice sounds mechanical at first but it starts to find a rhythm and the words come faster. ‘Not all trees get rid of their leaves, but he didn’t want them getting in the drains, he said, and we was out there clearing them up.’ Now they are pounding along like the wheels of a car on a fairground ride. ‘So, he came out and said could we help him look for his phone because he’d lost it and I said you probably lost it in the sitting room. So we had a look around and Drover said it was probably down the side of the sofa or something. He came inside, William I mean, ‘cos we were still dirty and hadn’t wiped our feet, so we stayed outside, but when he came back out he said he couldn’t find it nowhere.’

  ‘What time was this?’ Pam cuts in.

  ‘Don’t have a watch, misses,’ Pete shoots back. It’s hurting but he’s doing it for Drover. ‘Sorry, but it was still light, I can tell you that.’

  ‘Must have lost it after I called him,’ Myles chips in, trying to be helpful.

  ‘You don’t say, Sherlock,’ his wife spits back.

  ‘So, anyways,’ Pete carries on, ‘he said something about finding a new one when he was out, and then a bit later he went out.’

  ‘He walked?’

  ‘Yes,’ says Drover quickly.

  ‘All thirty miles to town?’

  ‘He phoned for a taxi,’ Pete says. He feels Drover’s hand tighten on his shoulder.

  ‘On what?’ Pam is really into interrogation mode now.

  ‘On that.’ Pete points to the old telephone on the small table.

  His heart sinks when Pam holds it up and shows him that the wire has been pulled out of the wall.

  ‘He did say he was really pissed off,’ Drover says, and moves to stand next to Pete. ‘He came back outside saying the taxi firm was going to rip him off for the cost of coming to get him, so he maybe pulled the phone in anger.’

  ‘Unlikely,’ Pam says. ‘And he didn’t take his car because..?’

  ‘Told you,’ Drover says. ‘He thought he’d have a drink, it being his birthday and all.’

  ‘Pam,’ Myles says, ‘maybe we should just go home. He can ring us when he gets back.’

  ‘This is simply not right.’ Pam finally takes her eyes from Pete. ‘You are not right.’ She looks at Drover. ‘This room is not right.’ She looks at her husband and then down at the bag he is holding. ‘For God’s sake, Myles!’ She draws in a very long, deep breath and her lips go really tight. Pete can tell she is very angry.

  But then her face suddenly changes. It looks like something has shocked her. Her eyes open wide for a second and then flick quickly to look at the carpet. Then, from the carpet to the small table on wheels. She blinks a few times and her brow wrinkles up. Then there’s that surprised look again and a smile starts to creep across her face. She clicks her fingers a couple of times as she looks at the sofa, and from there to Pete and finally back to Drover.

  ‘That’s what’s wrong,’ she says, very quietly.

  Drover is looking a bit pale and sick now too, Pete thinks.

  ‘You stay here,’ she says to Drover, and there’s no arguing with her. ‘Myles, I want a word with you. Where’s the Birthday Book?’

  ‘We got the decorations first,’ Myles says. ‘I left them on the landing. Shall I get them?’

  ‘You keep quiet and come with me. Lily, go and see if you can find your Birthday Book. Did you look in the den?’

  ‘It’s out of bounds,’ Myles protests.

  ‘Not now it’s not.’ Pam marches through the room and out into the hall. Her family follow her obediently.

  As soon as they are gone Pete slumps into a chair and Drover closes the door, all but a fraction.

  ‘Shuck it, Pete, that was close.’

  ‘Drover…’

  Pete has started to cry, he has his hands over his eyes.

  ‘Don’t do that, Pete,’ he hears Drover say. ‘Not now.’

  ‘I can’t do this, Drover. It’s all wrong. You, him under there… Where is he?’ Pete wipes his eyes and looks up.

  Drover is at the door looking out, checking through the crack.

  ‘Under the stairs, for now.’ He says it quietly.

  ‘The poor man is dead and you put him in a cupboard?’ The thought of it makes Pete want to weep even more.

  ‘Shush, mate, just shush. I want to hear what they are saying.’ Drover opens the door slightly and slips out.

  ‘Where you going?’

  Pete gets up and, wiping his face, follows. Looking out, he sees Drover sneaking across the hall and standing by the other door, the one to the dining room. It is now open and Drover is listening in to whatever the couple is talking about in there.

  Pete wants to hiss at him, to tell him to come away as this is not right, but he knows that might get Drover in trouble. Instead, he waits silently and his eyes wander to the cupboard under the stairs.

  There is a dead man behind that door, he thinks to himself. That’s not right. What if it was my dad? Tears come to his eyes again.

  He was in a field when he heard the news. It was a sunny afternoon and he had been walking. He was nineteen and he was on his way to see Drove
r.

  They had been friends for years by then and used to meet up in the afternoons all the time, once they’d finished with school and had no jobs. At this time, Drover was living with the travellers on the other side of the town so Pete had to walk through the high street and then out on the main road. After a mile he would turn off onto a lane. He liked that lane. It had hawthorn bushes and a ditch on one side where he heard frogs and sometimes saw voles. There were sheep in the fields which stretched on right until the very distance when a line of trees ringed the view.

  Turning from the lane and onto a track that was pitted with holes and ruts from tyres, he came to the edge of Drover’s field. The caravans and cars were right across the other side. This day, Pete was walking towards Drover’s caravan when he stopped dead in his tracks.

  It was a strange moment and he’d never forgotten it. He stopped and looked up, and there, high above him, was some kind of hawk. It was circling and it was alone. It’s lost its mate, Pete thought to himself. He’s out hunting and he is hunting alone. It must be very sad to have all that sky to fly in and no one to share it with. He imagined the hawk returning home after a day of hunting for mice, only to find the nest empty, his children gone and his mate missing. He saw this lonely bird living in a church tower, or on some distant cliff, all alone in an empty nest with no company, just reminders of the small family it had once had.

  And as he thought that he started to feel sad; sad because he somehow knew something very bad had happened. He heard his name being called and there, far off, was Drover running through the field towards him.

  He looked back at the sky and the circling hawk had gone. He scanned all directions, looking up, looking lower down, shielding his eyes from the sun, but no sign of the hawk.

  ‘Pete,’ Drover had said when he came running up.

  Drover was wearing black jeans and some new shoes that looked like plimsolls. He had bits of grass sticking to his legs, and his shirt was wet with sweat. He was panting, having been running, and his cheeks were red. Pete thought that the rest of his face looked very pale, as if he had just had a big shock.

  ‘Pete,’ he said again, gasping for breath.

  ‘I know,’ Pete said.

  Somehow he had known, but he was glad that it was Drover who was the one to confirm it.

  They sat in the field for hours after Pete had been told the news. The afternoon grew cooler and turned to evening and Drover sat with his arm around his friend all that time, comforting him, just letting him cry it all out. Eventually they had to head home as there were people waiting to talk to Pete, police and social workers and officials. He listened to them but he was nineteen, there was nothing they could do. He didn’t need their help, he had his friend. Drover’s travellers said he could stay with them, and from then on Pete just went wherever Drover led him.

  And now he’s led him to this house and that body behind the door.

  ‘Drover?’ he whispers across the hall.

  Drover looks back at him and once again his face is white. He hurries back across to Pete.

  ‘What are they saying?’ Pete asks, but there’s no reply.

  ‘Get in there, Pete,’ is all he says as he pushes Pete back into the sitting room.

  ‘What is it?’ Pete asks, his voice slightly louder now they are out of earshot of the others.

  ‘This is sick,’ Drover says.

  ‘What is it? What are they saying?’ Pete is frustrated now. Drover is not explaining himself. He looks worried and he is thinking. He’s chewing on a nail as he looks intently into Pete’s eyes and blinks. Then, suddenly, he stops and he looks like Pam just looked, surprised and then happy, like he’d found something special that had been missing. He pats Pete’s cheek twice.

  ‘I think we’ve got a way out of this,’ he says.

  Fifteen

  PETE HEARS LILY COMING down the stairs, she is running. At the same time, the door opens and Pam comes marching back in. He immediately thinks she is going to hit him or, worse, she is going to attack Drover, and he feels his bladder weaken. He cowers away to the other side of the room and bumps into the record player.

  But Pam doesn’t attack anyone, though she does look really angry. She is talking harshly to her husband.

  ‘You just can’t leave it alone, can you?’ she says, and points to the bag he is clinging hold of. ‘What did I tell you?’

  ‘Not now, Pam,’ he says, and his voice is weak.

  Lily comes back into the room.

  ‘No book,’ she says, and throws herself into a chair.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Pam asks, looking distrustful.

  ‘Yes,’ Lily replies, petulantly.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Der!’

  ‘You are lying, aren’t you?’

  Pete thinks she does look like she is lying. And she is acting like a spoilt brat. He is glad he doesn’t have a sister who behaves like that.

  ‘This is the worst birthday ever,’ Lily moans. ‘Where is grandpa?’

  ‘Yes,’ says Pam, turning her untrusting gaze to Drover. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘That’s a good question,’ says Myles. Pete sees him grip the back of an armchair and pull a strange face.

  Pam is looking at Drover but Drover is saying nothing.

  ‘Well?’ she probes.

  He shakes his head, lifts his shoulders, opens his palms. Pete knows that he does this when he is saying ‘what?’ and he wonders what Drover is up to. His face is calm, but his hand is shaking a bit. Pete can tell he is nervous, or is he excited? A way out of this, he just said. But what way out?

  ‘Pam.’ Myles mumbles something and comes around the chair. He’s unsteady and he drops the bag. Pete thinks he doesn’t look well as the man slumps into the chair and squeezes his stomach.

  ‘Well?’ Pam says to Drover, ignoring her husband.

  ‘The very worst party ever. No drinks, no cake, no present.’

  ‘Shut up, girl, you will get your gift later,’ Pam snaps at Lily.

  ‘Oh, can’t wait for that,’ Lily spits back, sulking heavily.

  ‘Where is he?’ Pam is still looking directly at Drover.

  ‘Why do you want to know?’ he replies.

  Pete is confused. What’s he doing? They should have told them the story they made up. They’ve been telling the lies to get them to go away, so why go over it again?

  ‘Where is my father-in-law?’ She is more demanding now.

  ‘What did you come here for, Pam?’ He spits out her name like it was a bad taste. Drover has dropped his arms to his side and is now standing up straight.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s me you should be begging forgiveness from,’ he says.

  Pete hasn’t heard him speak like this before. He sounds all grown up and serious, but still there’s his soft voice. It’s just that the words are harsher. What is he doing?

  ‘Explain yourself,’ she says, and her face shows a bit of concern.

  ‘After you.’

  Pete starts to smile. It’s like she appreciates that Drover is good at this game. But what game is he playing? He notices that Lily is sitting up in her chair now and paying attention. She’s looking at Drover with great big open eyes, admiration it looks like. You’re not having him, Pete says to her in his mind.

  ‘Come on,’ Drover is saying. ‘What’s your story?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ the woman says taking a pace towards him. ‘After you.’

  ‘Ladies first.’

  ‘Pam,’ Myles groans from his chair. He hiccoughs but only Pete notices.

  ‘Directed by social services to assist an elderly man, were you?’ Pam asks accusingly. Drover does not reply. ‘How does that work? You trudge thirty or so miles through th
e woods, or walk even further around the road? Or did they bring you in a Sunshine Variety Coach?’ She looks nastily at Pete for a second. ‘No,’ she says. ‘You didn’t come here to help any old man.’

  ‘No?’ Drover challenges. ‘So what did we come here for, then, missus? Answer me that.’

  Drover, no. Pete thinks. You can’t fight this one. She’s a policewoman. She knows what she is doing. And then he thinks: but he has a way out for us. He said so. He heard her say something in the dining room.

  ‘I imagine you happened upon the house by accident,’ she says, and starts to sound like someone off a TV show. ‘You were on your way through the woods, camping out by the looks of it.’ She flicks her eyes over his filthy clothes. ‘You saw the house, knew it to be remote, thought there was no one around, thought you might find something worth stealing, and broke in. William found you and you took it from there.’

  ‘Took what from there?’

  She looks around the room again and this time she points to various things as she speaks. ‘The sofa is never so close to the wall. It’s always out a certain distance so one can move behind it. There are four small dents in the carpet, there.’ She points and everyone looks. Sure enough Pete can see the dents where the wheels of the small table must have rested. ‘He never moves his furniture.’

  ‘So? We tidied up.’

  Drover shows no signs of being scared and Pete feels quite proud of him. But he is still confused. It sounds like Pam knows what happened. How? And what is she going to do about it?

  ‘No you didn’t,’ Pam says. ‘Something else happened.’

  ‘Look, lady, let me tell you how it is,’ Drover says, and Pete suddenly realises what it is that’s new about him.

  He has this confidence. That’s the word his dad would have said. Confidence, Pete, that’s all you need in life. Pete tells his thoughts to stop playing with him and tries to focus on what Drover is doing.