The Child Across the Street: An unputdownable and absolutely gripping psychological thriller

by Kerry Wilkinson

  ‘Do you remember when Holly got grounded because her mum saw her smoking by the memorial that time?’

  ‘Her mum told mine – but all that did was let mine know that I looked old enough to buy cigarettes for her.’

  Jo nods along. I watch her, not knowing what to say, or what any of this means.

  Jo has almost finished the second cigarette when she speaks again. ‘Do you sometimes wonder if we are who we are because of our parents?’

  ‘All the time. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped.’

  ‘My mum was always into something when I was growing up. She had those exercise videos, Jane Fonda or something like that. She’d get up and do the routine every day for a month or two, then she’d lose interest and move on to something else. She was always on some sort of new diet. She got a juicer one time and bought loads of fruit. Then she had us drinking these horrible green things every day for a week. She moved onto weight-loss pills, then creams to get rid of her wrinkles, even though she spent half her time on sunbeds.’

  Jo sighs again and finishes the second cigarette by squishing it into the road on top of the first one. I think she’s going to reach for a third, but she doesn’t.

  ‘It killed her in the end,’ Jo adds.

  ‘Sunbeds?’

  ‘No… well, sort of. Everything went a bit mad when she discovered the internet. Obviously that happened a few years after everyone else figured it out. She’d keep saying, “I don’t know why you spend so much time on the computer when there are real people out there,” and then, one day, I went round and she’d had broadband installed. She barely left the house after that. She kept finding these groups and forums where people would be talking about the latest diet pills – then that led to people posting these articles about how doctors were deliberately keeping people fat. After that, she refused to ever go to the doctor, no matter how ill she was.’

  ‘How long ago did she…?’

  ‘Just over a year. She was all in by then. She’d got into the anti-vaxxer stuff and kept saying how I’d wrecked Ethan because he had the MMR jab. We argued about it almost every time I saw her. We didn’t speak for six months – and I didn’t know she had cancer until it was too late. She wouldn’t go to the doctor and I found out afterwards that she’d got into all this faith healing stuff. There were so many pills. By the time I realised what was going on, there was no going back.’

  She reaches into her bag and removes a third cigarette. This time, she simply holds it between her fingers.

  ‘I’ve not smoked in years,’ she adds, holding up the cigarette. ‘I bummed three off one of the orderlies. I think he recognised me.’

  ‘Why did you start again?’

  She shivers. ‘Ethan woke up.’

  It’s hard to hide my surprise. ‘Oh… that’s good, isn’t it?’

  ‘They had to put him back to sleep again.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He couldn’t feel his legs and he started to panic. He was crying and shouting and they couldn’t calm him down. I was there, but I couldn’t help, either.’

  We sit silently for a while, watching as an ambulance emerges from the other end of the road. It pulls away from the hospital and then the lights spin and the siren blares as it disappears off into the distance.

  ‘Is it paralysis?’

  ‘They don’t know. They said something about blood flow, but I didn’t really take it in. I couldn’t stop seeing Ethan’s little face when he realised he couldn’t move his legs.’

  Jo returns the cigarette to her bag, unsmoked.

  ‘It’s such a mess,’ she adds. ‘I’ve got one son who’s paralysed, another who’s locked up, a boyfriend who’s also in jail – and then an ex who always wants an argument and whose sons won’t see him.’

  There’s little I can say to negate that, so I rest what I hope is a comforting hand on her knee instead.

  ‘It’s me, isn’t it?’ Jo says.

  ‘Of course it isn’t.’

  I reply instantly and instinctively, but the truth is that I don’t know. The people who say they hate drama and don’t want it in their lives are often the ones who attract it. That’s not to say any of this is Jo’s fault, but I haven’t been around her for long enough to know.

  Jo pushes herself up and cricks her back. I stand too and she does another mini stretch, pushing her arms high above her head and letting out a low moan.

  ‘I should probably go back in,’ she says. ‘Thank you for coming.’

  ‘Do you want me to stay with you?’

  ‘I—’

  She doesn’t finish the sentence because her phone starts to ring. She digs into her bag and then holds it to her ear.

  ‘Oh’ – ‘I could’ve told you that’ – ‘Right’ – ‘Why didn’t you say that yesterday?’ – ‘Okay’ – ‘Right’ – ‘Okay’.

  She presses the screen to hang up and then drops the phone back in her bag.

  ‘Owen’s being released,’ she says, although she sounds more weary than happy.

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘Can you go to the police station and meet him? They didn’t want to properly let him go without an adult.’ She nods at the station. ‘I can’t really leave yet and Neil’s still in custody.’

  The fact she doesn’t consider contacting Mark, Owen’s dad, says plenty.

  ‘I don’t have a car, but I can get a taxi over. Or walk.’

  ‘That’d be great.’

  She leans in and hugs me, with our arms sticking together from the sweat and the heat. When she pulls away, she bats off a yawn and then dabs the corners of her eyes with her fingers.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re back,’ she says, leaving me with no idea of how to reply.

  Thirty-Seven

  When I get to the police station, Beth is already waiting in the reception area at the front. She looks up to me curiously, wondering what I’m doing here.

  ‘Are you here for Owen?’ she asks.

  ‘Jo’s at the hospital with Ethan. She asked me to come.’

  The man at the counter checks who I am and then tells me to wait a couple of minutes. He disappears through a back door, leaving me alone with Beth. That only lasts a moment because a tall, thin young man sweeps in through the front door. He turns in a semicircle and then spots Beth.

  ‘Is he still…?’

  Beth nods to me. ‘Should be out any minute.’

  The young man eyes me suspiciously. He has incredible blond hair, with everything swooshed expertly to the side. It’s the type of look that might be on the front of a magazine.

  ‘This is Lewis,’ Beth says.

  ‘Abi,’ I say.

  Lewis offers his hand and I shake it, although there’s no indication of who he is, other than – presumably – a friend.

  We wait in silence, although I sense a lot of non-verbal communication between Beth and Lewis. They seem to be having a lengthy conversation with little more than eyebrow twitches and nods.

  It’s not long before there’s a banging of doors and then Owen emerges from the side, with the officer a little behind.

  When he spots me, I can see in the way his eyes widen that Owen has some idea of what’s going on.

  ‘Is Ethan—?’

  ‘He woke up,’ I say. ‘Your mum’s with him at the hospital.’

  ‘Awake…?’ He blinks his way towards me. ‘That’s great.’

  I figure I’ll let him have the moment, if only until we get outside.

  Owen seems unsurprised to see either Beth or Lewis and the four of us head through the doors and down the steps into the sunshine. When we get to the bottom, Beth rubs Owen’s arm and asks if he’s okay. He says he is and then turns to me, lifting his feet.

  ‘They gave me back my shoes.’

  I laugh, although it’s short-lived. I’ve not told him the full story about Ethan yet.

  ‘Do you want to go to the hospital?’ Beth asks, talking to Owen.

  He groans a little. ‘Yes. Let’s walk. I’ve
been sitting down for ages.’

  The three of them set off, leaving me at the bottom of the stairs. They’ve only gone a few steps when Owen stops and turns.

  ‘Are you coming?’ he asks.

  ‘Sure.’

  It’s a strange feeling – and no doubt an odd sight – as three teenagers amble along with me at their side. Nobody’s saying much, certainly not anything about what Owen might have told the police. It’s a good few miles from the police station to the hospital and we’re almost twenty minutes into the walk before Beth says anything of note. We are in the back alleys when she slows almost to a stop. Little chance of anyone overhearing. Owen mirrors her and then Lewis follows. It’s only me who ends up a few paces ahead.

  When I turn to see what’s going on, Beth nods towards me. ‘Is she all right?’

  I have no idea what’s happening, but Owen nods towards me. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Did you tell the police?’ she asks.

  ‘What else could I do?’

  ‘What did they say?’

  ‘Nothing really. They went away for a bit and then returned and told me they’d have to check a few things. When they came back next, they said I could go. I’ve still been charged for no licence or insurance – but that’s it.’

  ‘They know you didn’t hit Ethan…?’

  ‘They said I’m not under suspicion for that any more.’

  Beth lets out a long breath and looks towards Lewis. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she says.

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ Owen replies. ‘I should’ve told people before. Especially after Ethan got hit.’

  The end of the alley is barely steps away and I have no idea what’s going on, but Owen catches my eye and then takes Lewis’s hand.

  ‘We’ve been going out for about four months,’ he says.

  ‘Oh…’

  I have no idea what to say. It’s one of those things that feels like a surprise, even though it doesn’t matter. I suppose I have no gaydar.

  ‘Mum doesn’t know,’ Owen adds.

  He looks to Lewis and they smile to one another in a way that makes me ache for my own youth. There’s such purity there, which is something I’m not sure I’m capable of any longer. Every passing year brings more and more cynicism to the point that it’s now the norm.

  ‘I suppose she might know about me,’ Owen says, ‘but I’ve never told her – and she doesn’t know about Lewis. I don’t know how she’ll take it…’ He tails off and watches me, as if my approval will somehow mean it’s fine with his mum, too.

  ‘I don’t know her well enough any more,’ I say. ‘I don’t see why she’d have a problem.’

  Owen exchanges a look with Beth that makes it seem like I’ve read things wrong. ‘We once saw two women kissing at the seaside,’ he says. ‘Mum called them dykes. Not to their faces, just to me. It was a long time ago but…’

  I wish I could say something comforting, but it would surely make things worse if I assure him everything is okay and then it turns out that Jo does have a problem.

  ‘I’m not saying she’s right to say that, but we used to use that word a lot when we were young. We called lots of the boys “gay” or “homo” and plenty more girls “dyke”. At first, when we were much younger than you, we were copying what we heard other kids saying. We had no idea what any of it meant. Then it ended up being just a thing we’d say as an insult. Instead of saying something was rubbish, we’d say it was gay. If we didn’t like some girl, we’d call her a dyke. That doesn’t excuse whatever Jo said – but maybe it’s an explanation…?’

  Owen looks at me and I don’t get the sense he’s convinced. It’s not that I blame him. There were so many things we used to do and say as teenagers of which I’d be thoroughly ashamed now.

  ‘I took Neil’s car and drove out to see Lewis,’ Owen says. ‘On Tuesday, when Ethan was hit. He doesn’t live in Elwood and neither of us has a licence. It’s why I’ve been wanting to pass my test so much.’

  He glances to Lewis, who seemingly reads his mind. ‘I’ve failed twice,’ he says. ‘Mounted the kerb first time and too many minors the second – though I still say it was because that examiner didn’t like me.’

  Owen rolls his eyes and it’s hard not to laugh. Even without words, I can tell they’ve been bickering about this ever since it happened.

  Lewis slips into another smile and, just for a moment, everything’s perfect. It falls from his face barely seconds later and he squeezes Owen’s hand tighter before releasing him.

  Beth is the one who says it. ‘It’s not like coming out in a city, is it? There’s no gay village here. No parade, or rainbow flags on buildings.’

  She lets it hang and then Lewis chips in: ‘It’s barely the twenty-first century in Elwood.’

  He sounds angry, but Owen scolds him with a look that’s light-heartedly stern. ‘It’s not that bad,’ he says.

  Beth looks to me again. ‘You get it, don’t you? You left.’

  ‘I get it,’ I say quietly.

  She turns to Owen now. ‘We’ve gotta get out of this place,’ she says.

  ‘I like it here.’

  ‘Do you? Really?’

  He doesn’t reply.

  The four of us are left looking at one another until Lewis speaks. ‘Now you’ve told the police, do you think it’ll get out about us?’ He’s talking to Owen, who is looking to the floor.

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

  ‘Maybe it should…?’

  Owen doesn’t reply and it’s clear this is a conversation for another time.

  Beth nods towards the end of the alley. ‘Shall we get going?’ she says.

  We do, although much of what had to be said already has.

  Beth asks Owen how he slept at the police station and he talks about an uncomfortable bed with only a blanket. He didn’t hear anything of Neil being kept in a nearby cell and seems uninterested in whatever is happening with him. It’s not hard to see that they have little connection and I wonder whether Neil yet knows, or suspects, that Owen ‘borrowed’ his car. He’d have had to tell the police he took it with permission, else Owen could be charged with theft.

  When we get within sight of the hospital, Lewis takes Owen’s hand. ‘I’ve got to go,’ he says. ‘I came in on the bus and they only go every two hours on a Sunday. If I don’t catch the next one, I’ll miss lunch and then Dad will want to know where I’ve been and why…’

  After hearing this, Beth keeps walking, so I follow her lead and give Owen and Lewis some space. She slows to let me catch up and we continue towards the hospital.

  ‘How long have you been covering for him?’ I ask.

  ‘Since we were about thirteen.’ She laughs to herself. ‘I have no idea how he’s kept it quiet this long.’

  ‘Not just Lewis, then.’

  Another little laugh. ‘I keep telling him that he’s going to have to cover for me one day. As it is, Mum couldn’t care less what Petey or I get up to.’

  There’s a bitter tinge to her tone.

  ‘I didn’t actually mean to lie to you,’ she adds. ‘Afterwards, I told Owen you knew something was wrong because he’d told you one thing and I’d said another. We only realised when he told me he could be in trouble if anyone found out he’d been in a car when Ethan was hit. He sent me round to tell you I’d been mistaken about the days, but I said you’d already known something was up.’

  ‘I didn’t know what to think.’

  ‘You knew we were lying, though.’

  ‘Yes…’

  ‘And you didn’t say anything…’

  ‘Who would I tell? And why? You’re not the only ones lying in this town.’

  Beth doesn’t reply to that and it’s only a moment until Owen rejoins us. He starts toward the main hospital doors, but I call after him.

  ‘I need to tell you something,’ I say.

  He and Beth stop and turn back towards me.

  ‘I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be telling you this, or if it’s your mum –
but I don’t think it’s fair for you to go inside without knowing.’

  ‘What happened?’ he asks.

  ‘Ethan woke up, but they had to put him back to sleep again. He couldn’t feel his legs and was starting to panic. The last I heard, they don’t know what’s happening with him.’

  There’s a pause and then: ‘He’s out of the coma, though?’

  ‘Right. They don’t know if the paralysis is temporary, or…’ I tail off and then add: ‘I should’ve said before, but you’d just been released and—’

  ‘It’s okay.’ He looks towards the hospital and then back to me. ‘Are you coming in?’

  ‘I’ve already been here once today. I think I’ll leave you to it.’

  He nods along. ‘Thank you for coming to get me.’

  ‘You’re very welcome.’

  ‘Mum’s happy that you’re back. When she’s not talking about Ethan, she’s talking about you.’

  I offer a slim smile because this only makes it harder for me to tell Jo that I’m leaving again.

  ‘I’ll catch up with everyone later,’ I say.

  Owen and Beth offer small waves and then they turn and head towards the hospital. I watch them go and, for all the world, they could be a couple. Owen rests his head momentarily on Beth’s shoulder and she briefly takes his hand before letting him go. It makes me ache for those friendships of youth. The ones that feel like they’ll last forever before things like marriage, kids, houses and everything else gets in the way. As an adult, there’s nothing quite like it.

  I watch them disappear through the doors at the front of the hospital and then turn to leave. My legs are tired from all the walking and errands. It feels like it’s been a long day already and it’s barely midday.

  It’s as I turn that I feel a peculiar prickling at the back of my neck. I don’t believe in clairvoyance or anything like that – so it’s hard to explain quite how I know I’m being watched. There’s a car on the other side of the road that, at first glance, is parked in between two others. It’s only when I stare across that I realise it’s Holly’s vehicle. I almost wave – we left on reasonable terms, after all – except it’s not her in the driver’s seat.

  Mark is sitting there, slightly slumped in the seat, peering across the road to where I’m standing. I wonder how long he’s been watching – and why. I don’t get a chance to ask because, as soon as he realises he’s been seen, Mark revs the engine – and then pulls away. Holly’s dark blue Audi sputters fumes into the air and, for the first time since I saw that vehicle waiting in the middle of the road by Ethan’s shattered body, the memory flares.