‘Drover,’ he says. ‘I’ll get the policewoman. She’ll know what to do.’
Pete runs. Not caring now if William is waiting around a corner or about to crash through the front door, he knows that Drover is in trouble. He won’t have much air. It will be cold, he will be scared. Perhaps he is breathing his last breath right now. How long do people get? Three minutes? Pete needs to get help. He needs to get Pam to tell him what to do.
But, when he gets back to the sitting room, opens the door and runs into the room, he knows instantly that Pam is not going to be of any use to anyone.
Twenty-four
LILY WATCHES from the sofa as Pam falls from the chair to her knees and vomits blood onto the carpet.
‘Grandpa will be so angry with you,’ she says.
She knows that her mother can’t reply, not just now. Her insides will be burning and it probably feels like she is throwing them up and out, Lily thinks. Well, that serves her right. And him, Myles. He deserved it too. She looks down at the page in the book that she has just read and wonders why she did not see this page before.
Then she figures it out. She remembers the birthday talks with Grandpa, up on the landing, reading the birthday book and learning, over the years, all about the lore of the gift. When she was old enough, only a few years ago now, he told her what was inside him and how he wasn’t really her grandpa, but someone much older. He still loved her, though. She was still kin, a long way down the line, so that was alright. During those times he was only telling her about the way things were, and the way he wanted things to stay.
Now, having read about the process, how the gift can be given or taken, she understands why he didn’t explain all the rules to her. He doesn’t want to give it up any more than she wants to receive it. But tonight is the only chance Pam has to take it from him and give it to Lily. Tonight is the only time it is vulnerable.
She watches her mother, knowing that she only has a few more minutes left to live, and marvels at how thrilling chemistry can be. The tiny bottle, still in her pocket but empty now, held more than enough to dispatch first her weak father and then her scheming mother, and she feels no remorse. She belongs to this family as much as an evil gift belongs in anyone’s heart.
‘What have you done?’ Pam’s voice drags Lily’s attention back from the book. She is on all fours, her face a picture of agony, her voice a growl like she’s talking through swallowed gravel.
‘Guess,’ Lily says, and smiles back.
‘Why?’
‘Oh, Mother, you know why,’ she taunts.
Pam is racked with another bout of vomiting, more blood and bile than anything else, and even though she’s making a dreadful noise and horrid smell, Lily wants to explain her motives before Pam finally exits this world for somewhere nastier. She holds up the page of the book to show Pam, but the woman is trying to crawl to the drinks table. She must be thinking that she can dilute the poison and save herself. But it is too late for that. It would have turned to acid by now and will be eating through her insides quite nicely.
‘It says here,’ Lily begins, sitting up and lecturing, ‘that the gift can be passed on in two ways. One: willingly, on the night of the coinciding eighteenth birthday and the gift-bearer’s birthday, as long as the two people are of the same blood, as we are. You discovered this was possible a long time before I was born, and that’s why we are in this mess tonight. Two: by removing the heart of the gift-bearer and eating it, again only on this same coinciding day, before the day runs out and the next day begins. By the way, Mother, I am paraphrasing for you here.’
Pam reaches up and grabs a bottle of tonic water. She desperately wrestles with the lid.
‘So,’ Lily goes on, ignoring her, ‘me and Grandpa worked out, years ago now, that your plan was to kill Grandpa tonight, cut out his heart with the ritual knife,’ she points to it, ‘and feed it to me. Then I’d be the gift-bearer and you could get me to do away with Myles for you. You could run me like some kind of animal while living off the money I would earn when your colleagues and the rest sent over garbage to be disposed of. Honestly, you thought you could starve me to the point where I’d willingly eat a human heart? Get over yourself, Pam. What, you thought I could do appearances on talk shows? “My mother turned me into a human waste disposal unit.” I wasn’t going to allow that. And that tonic water won’t help you now.’
Pam takes a sip and immediately spits it out, her hand grabbing at her throat. She stumbles forward on her knees.
‘At least, that’s what I thought you had planned for me, but then I went and got this book and now I understand that you actually planned...’
She stops dead as the sitting room door suddenly bursts open.
Pete sees Pam on the floor doubled up. She has blood coming from her mouth. The metal bin has been knocked over spilling out frothy vomit and blood, a small table has been kicked over, Pam’s feet are thrashing about, she’s gurgling and there are red bubbles coming from her nose.
Pete stands in the doorway, his heart pounding, the blood sprinting through his veins in blind panic. He wants to say something but no words come to his mind or out of his mouth. He looks at Lily. She is sitting on the sofa with a large book open in her lap, reading it as if there is nothing wrong in this room.
Pam screams and her body goes stiff, her legs stretch out and her back arches. Her fingers claw into the carpet and her head rolls from side to side. Lily looks up from her book, regards her mother with disinterest, and then goes back to reading. She turns a page.
‘What…?’ is all that Pete can manage to say.
Thinking of what Drover would do, he rushes to Pam and drops to his knees. Although he can only think about saving Drover, he holds out a hand towards Pam hoping that instinct will take over. It doesn’t. What should he do? Touch her, shake her?
‘Missus,’ he says, and puts his hand on her arm.
Her head rolls to look at him and Pete wants to turn away because of the smell and the muck that’s coming from her mouth. Is it the blood he can smell? Her eyes are pink and they stare straight up into his face. Suddenly she grips his arm and her grip is tight. She is strong, her nails dig in, he can feel them through his clothes, and then one breaks off and Pete wants to scream. But, then, he realises they are false. She looks like she is calming down a bit, whatever just hurt inside her is going away. She swallows, draws herself up onto an elbow, then slides back so she is resting against the chair. She pulls Pete with her. He has no choice but to shuffle close to her. She may be sick but she’s still in charge. She works for the police. She will know what to do.
She looks across at Lily and then back at Pete. She wipes blood and stuff from her mouth.
‘Please,’ Pete says. ‘You got to help Drover.’
‘Listen.’ Pam’s voice is weaker than Pete expects. Her grip is hurting his arm. ‘You need to know this.’
She doubles up with pain again, letting go of Pete as she clutches at her stomach.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Pete asks, looking to Lily.
Lily sighs and puts the book to one side calmly. ‘She got too greedy,’ she says, and smiles, sweetly.
‘You drank too much, lady.’ Pete says.
‘She put something in it,’ Pam whispers.
Pete looks down at her, that last flash of pain has passed. ‘What?’ he says.
Pam wipes her mouth again and breathes fast. ‘She poisoned our drinks,’ she says. ‘You need to run, far from here.’
Pete has a flashback to Drover going for the whisky and Lily knocking him out of the way. He remembers Lily hanging around by the bottles, fiddling with something in her pocket. He shakes all that from his head.
‘I’ve seen him,’ Pete says. ‘William. That thing. He’s outside. He’ll be waiting for us. He said, “One at a time.” What do
es that mean?’
‘He knows,’ Lily says. ‘He knows, like I knew.’
‘Knows what?’ Pete is confused now. He wants to know what’s going on but he knows Drover won’t last long in that freezer. ‘Please, can’t you help me get Drover?’
‘Grandpa knew that she was planning to take his gift.’ Lily says.
‘Please!’ Pete is desperate. ‘Help me.’
Pam is staring at her daughter, a grimace on her mouth like a bad taste.
‘Grandpa knew,’ Lily goes on, picking up the book, ‘that you were after his money.’
‘Please!’ Pete says again. He doesn’t understand all this but no-one is listening to him.
‘So, what now?’ Pam says.
‘Now,’ Lily taps the book. ‘Now, we have to sort the problem Pete and his man caused. The gift inside is fighting back. It’ll come for even me now. We’ve tried to interfere with the lore, with the way of things. So, we got no choice really. It’s a case of eat or be eaten.’
‘What?’ Pete says. ‘Eat what?’
‘The heart.’ Pam grips Pete’s arm again. ‘His heart.’ She points to the knife Pete saw earlier. It’s still on a table. ‘Cut it out, with that, and only that, or he won’t die. Make Lily eat it while it’s warm. She will receive the gift and live.’
‘Thing is,’ Lily says, and holds up the book, ‘there’s something else. This is the bit you discovered and I didn’t know until just now. If you kill the person who eats the heart before the gift has time to settle in to its new host, they both die. Isn’t that right mother?’
Pam forces a laugh but it soon crumbles into a groan of agony. Her breathing comes faster, more blood spits form her paling lips.
‘You see, Pete,’ Lily says, as if she is explaining something to a child for the last time, ‘Mother had this plan.’
Pete doesn’t know who to listen to. He’s caught between the two and he’s becoming frantic. ‘Lily, please, Drover is freezing.’
Pete looks around the room for the padlock key, knowing there won’t be one. William still has it, but he has to do something and there might be a spare.
‘You see, Pete… Pete?’
Pete is searching the room with his eyes. Why didn’t he look around the garage? He’s feeling stupid now as well as scared. He should have stayed in the garage and used the tools.
‘Pete?’
‘What!’ He turns to her.
‘You see, you eat the heart while it is still warm, then the gift inside enters you, but it doesn’t take you straight away. There’s this few moments before it…’ she looks at the book, reads, ‘settles in. It’s during those few moments that it’s vulnerable. And that’s the only time it can be killed.’
‘I don’t understand this.’ Pete is close to tears. ‘I just want to save Drover.’
He feels Pam’s grip tighten on his arm, but his eyes stay on Lily.
She doesn’t let up. ‘Pam, here, planned to feed me the heart so I got the gift, but then she wouldn’t need me any more. She’d use this five minutes, this kind of loophole. She’d kill me and the gift with me. Then she’d just buy Myles off and be left with the house and the cash, and, well, you’ve seen it, haven’t you? There’s probably a million or two stashed away here. There’s loads upstairs in the den. It’s like a bank up there.’
‘Stop it!’ Pete shouts. He’s had enough of this. ‘Drover needs help. Please, Pam, please.’ He looks down at her and something tells him she’s got only a few more minutes left. Her skin looks yellow, her eyes look like they are covering over with a red film and her breathing is very shallow. He thinks of Drover running out of air, alone in the dark. ‘Please,’ he says, for the last time, knowing it’s no use. ‘What can I do?’
‘Run,’ Pam whispers. ‘Take my car, keys…’ she points vaguely towards her bag. ‘Try and get away before he comes for you. Take Lily. Look after my daughter.’
Lily laughs, contemptuously.
‘But, Drover…’
‘Leave him,’ Pam says, and looks straight into Pete’s eyes. He feels as if there is actually some compassion there. There’s something maternal about her and he gets a long-forgotten image of his own mother looking down at him.
‘Leave him. He’s no good for you.’
‘Don’t say that!’
‘You need to know.’ Pam draws in a long breath. She coughs, and Pete moves back to avoid the stuff that comes out of her mouth, but she pulls him back to her again, close to the stench on her lips. ‘You’re the boy, the one whose father was killed. I remember the papers, remember faces.’
Pete nods. ‘But, please help.
‘It was him. The diddycoy.’
She lets go of Pete’s arm and he falls back onto the floor, stunned.
He watches her drag herself painfully to her feet, slowly and with great determination. Her legs are trembling. She reaches out for the chair, uses it to push herself upright. She staggers across the room, picks up the knife and drops it on the floor next to Pete.
It was him. The diddycoy.
The words ring through Pete’s head.
Does she mean…?
Thoughts explode like badly made fireworks shooting off dangerously in all directions and crashing to the ground, unsafe thoughts of all colours burning him as they flash majestically and painfully in his head. His dad was killed in a bank raid. He was the security guard. The place got held up, three men in masks, never caught, two years ago. There was a fight, one of the gunmen and Pete’s dad. Dad got the shotgun off him and was aiming it at the robber when one of the others overpowered him. They struggled, the gun went off, Pete’s dad got shot, point blank, dead. Shotgun. They never found who did it. They ran away, all of them, scattered. Funeral, social workers, lawyers, eviction, meetings, crematorium. Shotgun. Then Drover said they had to leave town. It was the best thing for Pete, get away from everything, start again. There was no house, they’d taken that back once his dad was gone, no money, no-one to look after Pete; only Drover, in the squat, telling stories, promising friendship, being cared for, caring back, having a friend, not being alone. Always with Drover. Always on the move.
Another crazy firework-of-thought malfunctions and sends sparks whizzing and popping around inside Pete’s mind.
Why? Why always on the move after that? Because they were mates? Yes. Or no? Maybe because Drover needed to get away before anyone found out it was him. On the move, always one town after another, looking for work, following the travellers, moving on. And here, through this wood to a better place, this afternoon, the same thing, moving further away from where it happened. Moving with a shotgun. But, it was Pete who tried to stop things today, tried to stop Drover shooting William, but he did it all the same. Drover shot William like he shot Pete’s dad.
But there is something worse. There’s a grand finale of realisation that powers through Pete’s head with a spectacular display of exploding lights. Drover has been lying about it all this time. He kept a secret from him. This secret?
‘No!’ Pete shouts, and gets to his feet. ‘You’re lying. He didn’t. He would have told me.’
‘He killed your father,’ Pam says. She staggers back against the door. She has picked up her bag. She throws car keys across to Pete, drops the bag. ‘They knew, at the station, but they can’t prove it.’ She is gasping. There is blood trickling from her nose. She doesn’t care. ‘They cover up for each other, that lot, the gypsies, the Bucklands and their kind. He was working for them. He took their money to do it. Drover killed your father, Peter. Now, leave him and save Lily.’
Pete shakes his head. ‘I don’t believe you.’
Pam seems to have found some strength. She grips the door handle and looks sternly at her daughter.
‘I wasn’t going to kill you,’ she says, and blood and saliva sp
ray from her lips. ‘You were going to inherit what’s yours.’ She wipes her mouth on her sleeve. ‘You were going to have anything you wanted with all this.’
She throws her arms up. She means the money hidden in the house. But, then, she doubles over again and one hand grips her guts while the other slams against the wall as though by thumping it she is giving herself more strength. ‘We were going to have such a life.’
Lily says nothing. She just folds her arms and stares back at Pam, defiantly.
‘What are you doing?’ Pete says. He can see Pam opening the door. ‘Are you going to help Drover?’
‘Forget him.’ Her voice is rasping as it fades, her eyes now barely open. The skin on her face has turned a weird bluish-grey colour with blotches of red on her forehead. Pete is sure he can see her veins. ‘He’s no good. He lied to you, Peter. He’s kept you close for his own protection.’
‘Because he likes me.’
‘No… feels guilty,’ Pam says, and then heaves in a great gasp of air. ‘Easier to keep the truth from you. Would have left you, eventually.’
She opens the door and behind her, in the hallway, Pete sees that the front door is open again. ‘He’s a killer,’ she says, gripping the door for support. ‘Leave. Take Lily… away… my car.’ Another gasp that Pete thinks is going to be her last. She looks at the two sports bags still on the floor. ‘Take it… quick. Go while… he’s… distracted.’
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