*
On Sunday morning, my mother drove my dad to Stonehenge to pick me up. He drove our camper van home and I went in our car with mum. Her nerves were completely shot. I could tell straight off, because she was playing Morrissey. We had it all the way home. We couldn’t talk. I always know when she’s having a wobbly; Morrissey wails out all over the place until she’s made us all feel as depressed as she is. In my case that takes about three seconds with Morrissey.
All of a sudden she turned the music off and told me she was certain she was being followed. I tried joking about it. I said it was people trying to destroy her Morrissey albums. That didn’t even get a flicker of a smile from her. Her eyes seemed glazed over, just staring down the road. Then she told me that all the CCTV cameras in town were pointing at her. She was looking around and pointing them out to me. I had to yank the steering wheel to stop her running into a pair of brewery shire horses. Then she just stopped the car and broke down in tears, right there outside the brewery. I tried to calm her, and then she stopped, dried her eyes, and drove on as if nothing had happened. She didn’t even tell dad when we got home.
The following morning was Monday. I ducked school and went to see Jack’s mum. She was all red-eyed and jittery. I could tell she hadn’t slept, but she pretended everything was fine. Unbelievably, she got annoyed when I mentioned Jack. I had to shut up. We just sat there in this awkward silence, and then she said he’d soon turn up; he was just being selfish. I didn't know what to say. Didn't she realise what was happening?
She’d kept Jack’s little brother Ryan off school, because some kids had said that Jack was murdered by a Stonehenge ghost. He’s only six, bless him.
We all had orange juice. I never asked for it. Then she led me up the garden to a small greenhouse. She showed me this weird plant watering system, all pipes and timing switches. She said Jack's dad had made it. I just stood there like a fool while she explained the whole contraption to me. It just made me feel bad. I wanted to leave. I asked if I could take Ryan to the park. She just nodded, like I was saying can I have tissue?
In the park, I sat on a swing next to little Ryan. I was feeling really strange, as if I was the only person in the world. I kept wondering what was going to happen. Ryan was all chatty and sort of perky, but said nothing about Jack. Then suddenly he said Jack was teaching him to play guitar. He’s so little I wondered how he could even hold a guitar. But apart from that he never mentioned his big brother. It was as if he thought everything was all right so long as we didn’t talk about it. That's when I realised that Jack’s poor mother was probably doing the same thing. Jack's father was dead. Did I say that? He was killed in a road accident about a year ago. Some freak in a sports car. A woman, I think; she never stopped.
Two men were watching us as I pushed Ryan on the swings. They looked like police, but not the ones I’d seen at the police station, or at the camper van. They looked just as spooky, though. One was tall and really thin. He made you think that he’d be sure to have a wheezy chest and a permanent sniffle. The other looked mild and clever, like a young vicar. They pretended not to be watching us. I ignored them and took Ryan home.
In the evening two Special Branch officers came to my house just as my dad got in from work. I think they must have been watching the house, waiting for him. No wonder my mother keeps having kittens. They spoke to my dad in the kitchen, and then he called my mother in. I don’t know what was said. It was all mumbling and whispering, but it led to me and dad being driven to Devizes police station. I was hungry. We hadn’t eaten.
I told them I’d seen their pals watching me in the park. It got no reaction. Instead, they questioned me all over again, the same questions, the same dirty innuendo. ’How well do you know Jack?’ They said it all sort of sleazy - like – you know - do I have sex with him or something? It upset my dad. He suddenly snapped and got really cross. He was threatening them with lawyers and demanding that they take us home. They looked pretty shocked. It was late by then, nearly ten. They seemed genuinely concerned and apologised. I asked about getting some take-away food on the way home. They said we could and they even helped us to 'phone in our order.
We were shown to the exit, my dad in front as we strung out in single file. One of the plain-clothes men fell behind. He turned suddenly, blocking my way. I was cut off from my father and the others. I was scared and tried to pass by him, but he stopped me and handed me my mobile phone. He must have got it from the Amesbury police. I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked him, but he wasn’t smiling. He grabbed my wrist and put his face close up to mine. ‘This is your only warning,’ he said. His eyes were cold and violent. ‘Keep your mouth shut about all this. Tell nobody, not your family, not your friends, nobody. Secret means exactly that. Get it?’
I was really scared. The police are not supposed to be like that. I pulled away and ran to catch up to my dad, but I daren’t speak to him. I knew I would burst into tears if I tried.
The same two plain-clothes men drove us home in silence. All the way the horrible one stared at me in the driving mirror; his eyes were chilling. When we stopped so that my dad could pick up our Take-Away, I had to sit alone with those vicious eyes staring at me from the rear view mirror.
Before dropping us at our front door, the other man repeated all about the Official Secrets Act. We’d heard it loads by now, but he droned on about what could happen to us if we told anybody. I barely listened. I was too scared of his colleague. He looked as if he might kill me any second. I just nodded and promised to keep quiet. The nice one smiled back, as if he understood perfectly how I felt. He warned that I would find it difficult at school because everybody would want to know about Jack. He was right too. I was already getting loads of emails, and I knew there would be a flood of texts on my phone, now that I had it back.
‘Mr Morris,’ the officer said. ‘I know this could be difficult, but it might be best to keep Victoria at home for a few weeks.’ I knew my dad wouldn’t like that. I felt him shuffling on the seat beside me. He cleared his throat, but the officer cut him off before he could object. ‘By the start of the autumn term,’ he went on quietly, ‘everybody will have forgotten the whole episode. What do you say?’
My dad looked at the man for a moment. I could see the cogs turning in his brain. He relaxed his shoulders. ‘Oh very well. You’re probably right.’
Right! That made me cross. What about Jack? Why doesn’t anybody mention him? They are all so keen to protect their military secrets, and now, even my dad was helping them. Nobody cares about Jack. My throat tightened and I snapped. ‘What about Jack?’ I cried, tears welling up. I felt stupid for crying, but I was so angry. I mean – even my own dad.
Shooting a concerned glance at his colleague, the nicer of the two officers squirmed awkwardly in the front seat. ‘Of course we’re doing all we can about Jack Shire,’ he said. ‘Every effort is being made to find him. Unfortunately, the military dimension has come into the equation. That's why we're involved, officer Brough and me. I don’t want to sound – err – uncaring, but Jack’s disappearance is for the Wiltshire Police to deal with. It’s a civil matter. But I happen to know they’re moving heaven and earth – err – to do everything they can to find him. Me and officer Brough, we don’t actually get involved in that side of things.’
‘You’d think when they’re moving heaven and earth they’d at least bother to visit his mother,’ I said. The officer reddened and turned his face away. ‘Did you know that she had to ring them to ask what was happening? Nobody had even bothered to tell her.’
‘As I say, me and officer Brough ...’
‘Yeah yeah, not your department. I heard you the first time.’
‘I promise you, we will raise it with uniformed branch. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.’
My dad had opened the car door and started to climb out. ‘Yes well I’d like to know too,’ he said. ‘It all sounds very unsatisfactory. Tori’s quite right. Somebody needs to ex
plain why, when a sixteen-year-old boy goes missing, it’s given less importance than a bit of fancy radar. It’s almost as if you already know the lad’s not coming back; you've written him off, and now all that’s left to do is secure your damn secrets.’
My stomach churned. I thought I would throw up. I was almost paralysed by what my dad had said. I gaped at him, replaying his words in my head. Was that what this was all about? Was Jack already dead? Did the authorities know it? Was that why there was no hue and cry to find him? I felt so weak and sick I could hardly walk. My dad helped me out of the car and up to our front door.
………
Time Rocks Page 8