I sit up. “I was?”
“In that your original assessment of him as a ‘good guy’ is absolutely correct.”
I sit back again. “Oh.”
“His name came up in our interviews with Ben and Efia, so we asked him to come in. He was sorry that you didn’t realize he also ran a property development company, along with his work on the local traders’ committee – he said it was on his card.”
“It was.” I shrug.
“And yes, he’s bought the Bellevue and it’s going to be demolished.”
I sigh. “More fancy bars and shops then.”
DI Griffin shakes his head. “Indie cinema in the basement, with an exhibition and performance space on the ground floor, along with a café bar. It’s designed for the whole community and there’s going to be a youth theatre based there.”
“Oh.”
And now I’d basically accused Tyler of torching Wonderland, guess who wouldn’t be welcome at the brand-new place?
DI Griffin must read my mind, because he says, “Tyler did mention he’d be calling you…”
“Oh no.”
“He said he wants some local teenagers to be involved in the new building, so I think he’s hoping you might be part of that.”
Dad ruffles my hair. “Quite the mover and shaker, aren’t you?”
“Stop it!” I shrug him off and scowl at him, although I am quite pleased about being part of Tyler’s thing, and hope there’s a way I can get the others on board.
“Anyway, that’s where we are, Alex. There’s no one obvious suspect, is there? Just a lot of possible ones and some vague motives.”
I shake my head. “We tried,” I say. “As I told you, we tried to find out.”
“I know, and yet, it seems all roads point everywhere and nowhere, all at the same time.”
I crack a small smile. “Like the Mirror Maze,” I say.
DI Griffin nods and closes his notebook. “Yes, I suppose so,” he sighs. “Like the Mirror Maze.”
Me and Dad sit in our Ford Mondeo in the police station car park for a good minute before either of us says anything. “Kendra and I are thinking about taking a bit of a break,” he tells me.
“Ah, Dad, no, that’s—” I’m totally flooded with guilt. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to.”
“Dad, look, please, in another two years I’ll probably go to uni or something. It’s true I’m not keen on Kendra, but that doesn’t mean you two should end it. Not if you’re happy.”
“Huh. Well, maybe I’m not,” he says. “Happy.”
I can’t say that massively surprises me. I don’t know how he ended up dating her in the first place, even less how she ended up moving in.
“Maybe we did the whole moving-in thing too quickly, maybe we just don’t have that much in common, maybe it was a midlife crisis…”
He smiles at me and I grin.
“But I also don’t like the way she talks to you,” he says.
“Well, sure, nor do I, particularly.”
“You’re my son.”
I’m not sure how to respond to that, because it’s sort of just a statement of fact; it’s hardly a revelation.
“You’re supposed to be the most important thing in my life.” He looks at me. “And you are, by the way. Just in case … in case that hasn’t always been clear?”
I smile. “Thanks, Dad.”
He puts an arm across my shoulders. “Hearing it all just then, it’s the right decision. You don’t need people making you feel bad about yourself, Alex. God knows, you do a good enough job of that yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
“Always been an over-thinker,” he says. “Always winding yourself up.”
We sit in silence for another few moments until Dad claps his hands together. “Hungry?”
“Yup.”
“Fish and chips?”
“Ohh! What are we celebrating?”
“You being awesome.”
He starts the car.
“Dad, you’re gonna make me sick if you talk like that.”
He grins and takes the handbrake off. “You are though. You’re on the up, Alex. It’s only up from here.”
And as we pull out of the car park, I smile, because deep down, in spite of everything, I think he might be right.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Two weeks later, I’m back at school, and with all the excitement of starting year twelve (No uniform! Free periods! Will being really sheepish and suggesting cinema trips to try and salvage our friendship!), parts of the summer are already starting to fade. Other parts, though, are as vibrant and crystal clear as if they were happening right now. The fire is one of them.
The night at the lake with Ben is another.
It’s a Saturday afternoon when Maggie sends a group text to me, Ben and Efia, and asks to meet us outside the ruins of Wonderland. The fire burned through everything, leaving only the shell of the structure, although most of that has now been deemed unsafe, and requires demolition. I’ve been past it a few times, and once I stood for a whole hour just staring at the ruins through the temporary metal fence they’ve erected around the site, but seeing Wonderland like this is still heartbreaking. Amongst the rubble, I can make out the odd machine – a claw grabber, smashed and on its side, the charred remains of a Penny Falls, and a huge teddy bear, its body burned and singed, covered in dust.
I jump when I hear his voice. “I still can’t get my head around it.”
Ben’s standing a couple of metres away from me, and he’s brought Artoo Dogtoo with him. The weather’s more autumnal now, and he’s wearing jeans with a blue hoodie, cheeks slightly pink with the colder air, looking as adorable as ever.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” I glance down at Artoo Dogtoo, who’s wagging his little tail at me. “Hey, buddy.”
Ben smiles and comes to stand beside me, and we both stare at the ruins through the metal fence. “Sometimes bricks and mortar are just as important as people,” I say. “You said that, didn’t you?”
Ben nods.
“So where does that leave us?”
“Well, I guess that’s just it,” Ben says. “It leaves us.”
He’s right. Wonderland, the place, might be gone. But everyone who made it truly special was still here. And everything that had happened this summer, it was all still ours, and always would be. If we wanted it to be.
I turn to him. “I’ve missed you.”
His eyes are hopeful; he opens his mouth a little, but no words come out.
Words don’t feel like they’re going to cut it anyway, and I want him close to me so badly that I just step towards him and throw my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder. He responds by wrapping his arms around me, pulling me tight into him, so close, like we’re never going to let go of one another again. And we stand like that, whilst Artoo Dogtoo sits watching (I swear he makes an “Aww” sound at one point), and I’m so happy that it’s like this again, I could cry.
He’s on the brink of tears too. He pulls back from me a bit, and his eyes are wet, and he’s shaking. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me another chance.”
“Well, you’re pretty, so.” I smirk at him and he laughs.
Then he glances briefly over my shoulder, and I know what he’s doing, so I glance over his, and then he meets my eyes, asking if the coast is clear of anyone who might cause us trouble, and I give him the smallest of nods, and he leans in to kiss me. And that kiss, it’s so epic, so utterly spectacular, it’s fireworks and confetti cannons, it’s glittering, it’s golden, a million dollars, and I don’t mean to brag, but we are so good at it, and the world just stops, like everyone tells you it does, and it’s just me and him—
“Boys.”
… and now Efia. Which means we must have been kissing for at least a minute because she was nowhere to be seen when I looked up the road.
We break apart. Efia gr
ins. Ben pulls his hoodie down a bit, looking sheepish. “Hey,” he says, cheeks seriously flushed.
“Good,” Efia says. “You two being back together is good news. I’m glad. That is what’s going on here, right? That wasn’t some weird break-up snog?”
“Is that a thing?” I ask.
“Everything,” Efia says, “is a thing.”
I reach out and take Ben’s hand in mine. “This is Ben,” I say, and I’m feeling like the world is mine at that moment, so I just say it. “He’s my boyfriend.”
I flick my eyes to check his reaction, and he’s grinning, and then he leans over and pecks me on the cheek.
Artoo Dogtoo barks his approval and definitely looks like he’s smiling.
“Cool, that’s cute,” Efia says. “Double date with me and Caleb soon, then, yeah?” She sighs, and then it’s her turn to look through the fence at the remains of Wonderland. And we all just stand there, looking, remembering, still not quite believing.
“It’s all gone.” It’s Maggie’s voice, behind us. I turn, and there she is, wrapped up against the slightly chillier September air in a huge fur coat that I hope is fake, and smoking a real cigarette rather than an electric one. “Hello, my loves,” she says.
“Do they know how it started yet?” I ask.
Maggie takes a drag of her cigarette. “Doesn’t seem like it.” She blows out smoke. “They think it started in the back office, and perhaps something was thrown through the window – but it’s hard for them to be sure. Seems it spread quickly, though – apparently it ripped through the Roswell Experience like actual wildfire – they were asking if we flameproofed the drapes.” She looks at our horrified faces. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“Maggie, were we meant to?” Ben says.
Maggie nods. “Yes, dear.” She sighs. “But that’s on me – I should have overseen it better.”
Ben looks crushed, like all this is his fault.
“Seems the place was a dangerous fire trap,” Maggie continues. “I know they’ve been looking for the person who wrote the notes and tampered with the maze and the eggs, but seems like they’ve drawn a blank. Seems like maybe it was just ‘kids’. That’s what they said to me. ‘Kids playing pranks’.” She shakes her head and laughs. “Some prank.”
Something in the back of my mind nags at me, but I can’t place it.
“What about the insurance, Mags?” Efia asks. “Are they gonna pay up? Maybe that’ll mean you can rebuild, start again—”
Maggie holds her hand up to stop her. “I may have fallen behind on paying the premiums.”
Efia’s eyes go wide.
“That’s right – technically speaking, I wasn’t insured,” Maggie says. She throws her cigarette on the floor and stamps it out. “So that’s that.”
I look between Efia and Ben, desperate for one of us to say the words of wisdom that will solve all the problems. A great idea, a solution, a way forward, anything. But I can tell from their faces they’re as stumped as I am. This is insurmountable.
“I’m so sorry, Maggie,” I mutter.
Maggie sniffs. “Well, then again, maybe this is possibly … good news.”
“What? On what planet?” Ben splutters.
“Based on the fact my insurance won’t pay out and the building is totally wrecked, the local planning authority have given permission for the whole thing to be demolished and the land to be sold. They’ve agreed I can sell to one of the property development companies – it’s no one you guys know, before you all get your knickers in a twist – and they can build apartments with retail units on the ground floor. As a nod to the listed status of the original building, the developers have agreed to reclaim some the original bricks and recreate part of the original design. I think the council knew it was either that, or they’d have a plot of land that no one wanted anything to do with, so they let it go through.”
Efia wrinkles her brow. “So, where does that leave you?”
“The company is buying the land from me. I’m using the money to pay off my debts, and the rest… Well, I’m finally doing what I always wanted to do. I’m getting out. Moving on.”
“Where to?” I ask. “Like, Devon or something?”
Maggie screws her face up. “Why the frig would I move to Devon?”
“I dunno.” I shrug. “It’s pretty nice there. Good scenery. Scones.”
“Scones?!” Maggie practically screams. “Alex, I don’t want scones, I want excitement! I want many, many years of completely outrageous living. I want late nights drinking, great food, wild adventures with crazy friends, I want fabulous sex!”
I think we all groan in a grossed-out sort of way.
“I’m moving to Ibiza,” she says.
“WHAT?!” we all squeal.
“Found a lovely little apartment near Santa Gertrudis. It’s within easy reach of beaches, nightlife, good restaurants… Loves, I’m going to be doing yoga on the beach and finally finding my bleeding chakra. Hopefully with the help of some ludicrously hot Ibizan with a penchant for the older lady.”
She gives me a wink and I nearly puke.
“But, Maggie, surely Wonderland is … I mean, what about the memory of your son?” I say.
Maggie blinks at me. “My what now?”
“Your son!” Ben says.
Maggie looks blank. “What son? Have I got a son?”
“The son who… He disappeared, didn’t he?” I say. “You built Wonderland because—”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Maggie says. “You think I’d ever want to be lumbered with some stinking kid? Changing nappies and mopping up puke?”
I’m totally stumped. The story was legend. Everyone knew it. What the hell?
She’s still staring at me like, have you gone entirely mad, and I feel stupid now, so I push it to the back of my mind. “So, um, when are you…” And then I see the suitcase she’s standing next to, and it hits me. This is goodbye. “Now?” I say.
Maggie nods. “My solicitors are sorting out the details this end and completing the sale. What’s the use of hanging around? I’ve got a lot of living to do, and I don’t intend to waste a moment. You know what my final little piece of life advice to you would be? Don’t cling on to the past. Embrace change. Some things are worth saving, worth trying for, and some things aren’t. Learn to work out the difference.” She looks at me and Ben. “But I think you’ve probably worked that out for yourselves.”
I glance at Ben, and we both share shy smiles. And then I look back at Maggie, who just nods, knowingly.
Drake screeches up to us in his souped-up Fiat Panda that definitely wasn’t worth being beaten up for.
“Ah. My ride,” Maggie smiles.
“One-way trip to Gatwick?” Drake says, leaning across the seat towards the open window.
I pull Maggie to one side. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“I’m taking an opportunity,” Maggie says. “I’m lucky, in many ways. I’m very lucky, Alex.”
I nod. I can see she’s set on this new path. I give her a sad smile, and she smiles back.
“Thank you for everything,” I tell her. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. And for the advice. It helped. I’m going to miss you. We all are.”
Her face softens. “You’re a good kid, Alex. You deserve some luck too.”
Drake’s car revs behind us.
“Well, you know, you make your own luck,” I say, repeating back the advice she gave me many times.
Maggie smiles and leans into me for a tight hug. “Oh, I did, Alex,” she says in my ear, in a low tone. “I did make my own luck…”
I freeze as everything slots into place.
Oh, shit.
She breaks away from me and climbs into the passenger seat of Drake’s car, smiling and waving to us all. “Adios!” she shouts cheerily. “And whatever happens, never let the bastards get you down! Remember, the house always wins!”
I turn to look at Ben, and he sees my open-mou
thed expression.
His eyes widen in understanding.
Maggie.
And just like that, like some illusion, or trick, she’s gone.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Linas Alsenas, whilst I’m not really a believer in fate and destiny, I thank my lucky stars that we ended up working together. Thank you for being the best cheerleader (sans pompoms – but I could get you some?), thank you for your insightful, brilliant notes, and most of all, thank you for making every part of this process fun and enjoyable.
Joanna Moult, at Skylark Literary – thank you for always having my back, for being the best sounding board, and for all your wisdom and support.
Sarah Counsell, you’re simply the best! When I hit a roadblock in the manuscript, you always manage to calm me down with your unwavering support and belief in me, convince me I need to “step away from the screen” and that I shouldn’t throw my laptop out of the window. Thank you. This book might have ended up in the pond if you hadn’t been there to catch it.
Liam Drane, yet again you have designed a spectacular cover, and Debbie Powell, your cover illustrations are brilliant and perfect – thank you, both!
Huge thanks to the rest of the wonderful team at Scholastic, especially Harriet Dunlea and Kate Graham in the PR and marketing department for everything you’ve done to promote me and Alex.
Thank you to the school librarians who have championed my books in their schools, and arranged for me to come in and deliver talks and workshops to their students. I’m going to miss some off inevitably (apologies), but thanks to Debbie Haynes, Sally Baker, Laylah Moore, Amanda Phelan, Susan Mulkern, Jane Hill, Joanne Hunter, Rachel Eckford, Christine MacCourt, Kate Kenward, Lucy Georgeson and Julia Hale, and a special mention to Laura Ferguson at Wirral Grammar School for Girls for organizing my epic trip to schools around the Wirral, and the always cheerful Tony Higginson for driving me around everywhere and tirelessly promoting and selling lots of my books. Heroes, all of you.
On the subject of selling books – the team at Gay’s The Word bookshop have been every shade of awesome, so the biggest hug to Jim, Uli and Erica. And to all the other wonderful booksellers – you know I love you, SO MUCH.
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