by Peter Laws
Ever slid his hand away. ‘Then why do you look so scared?’
Dust breathed, waited, breathed some more, but said nothing.
So Ever looked down at the shed, which was pulsing again. Only now he could see his mum on the front porch of the path, praying on her knees and looking up at them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Matt set the wide, bobbing plant on the table as he and Wren sat into the plastic chairs.
Miriam smiled. ‘It’s beautiful. You shouldn’t have.’
‘Oh,’ Wren said. ‘I think we should’ve.’
Miriam wasn’t in a bed. She was sitting in a tub chair in a small hospital room, with a cup of hot coffee misting the air. She was fully dressed in jeans and a jumper, with her boots and bobble hat set neatly in the corner of the room. Matt noticed her thick socks had tiny white moons on them. ‘They’ve said I can go home in a couple of hours. How great is that?’
‘That’s fantastic news.’ Matt bit his lip awkwardly. ‘But doesn’t it hurt?’
‘Not nearly as much as you’d think.’ She hitched her jumper and turned a little. A square patch of bandage covered her side, just above her hip. ‘I reckon what’ll hurt the most is when they peel this darn tape off.’ She laughed.
‘So, it just grazed you?’ Wren said.
‘Yep. They said if Matthew hadn’t pulled me down it would have hit me right in the tummy.’ She let the jumper drop and slid back into the chair. ‘So, thank you, Matthew. Like I said, you saved my life.’
‘Listen to her.’ Wren shook her head. ‘Miriam, you saved his and I am … insanely grateful.’
Matt nodded. ‘We both are.’
‘Well’ − she swished a dismissive hand − ‘all’s well that ends well, right?’ She sipped her coffee and Matt was conscious they were both just staring at her. Especially Wren, who looked at Miriam like she was an angel who might flutter away at any moment.
‘Miriam?’ Matt broke the silence. ‘Why were you in Chesham, anyway?’
She giggled. ‘A miracle, I guess.’
He faked a giggle back, ‘Yeah, but … why were you?’
She slowly set her cup down and waited.
‘Are you okay?’ Wren asked. ‘Are we tiring you out?’
Finally, she spoke. ‘You gave me your card, Matthew. You told me I could get in touch.’
‘So, you were looking for me?’
‘Yes. I knew you lived in Chesham. So I came to find you in Chesham.’
‘But how did you know I was at the police station?’
Matt felt Wren’s eyes on him. She had that look on her face. The stop-interrogating-people look. He got this glare at parties sometimes, when he battered guests with silence-filling questions like ‘Where do you work?’ ‘Who painted that?’ and ‘Do you like airports?’
‘Just interested, that’s all …’ he said.
She spoke slowly. ‘I was driving, trying to find your house, and I hit this traffic jam. I got out to see what was going on and who do I see but Matthew Hunter, standing right there. I could tell you were in trouble, right away.’ She whispered the next few words, ‘Some would probably call that a fluke, but it’s a miracle, like I said.’
‘So, what did you want to see me about?’
‘I wanted to know if you’d figured it out.’
‘Figured what out?’
‘Why Micah attacked his dad, of course. The church is baffled and distraught, and we need answers.’
‘We’re working on it.’ A breeze rattled the blinds, and as they sat in silence, something came back to mind. Something that had been bugging him. ‘Miriam, you said something interesting last night. You said that perhaps Micah did what he did because he simply didn’t like his dad.’
She shrugged. ‘Lots of people don’t like their father because not all fathers are good, are they?’
‘Yes, but most people don’t grab an axe and—’
‘Do you like your father, Matthew?’ She leant towards him. ‘Do you love him? Does he love you in return? Is he affectionate and caring, and kind?’
Matt blinked, and a snap of Barnabas Hunter flopped from his brain. He saw his dad in the front seat of the car, turning back to look at him with those tiny eyes, though actually they could have been quite big eyes for all Matt knew. It’s just that they were always narrowed when they looked at him, so it was impossible to tell. And he had that fifties-style slick of hair and grey, skinny lips that could boom out tones that could shake an entire car.
Matthew. You do NOT talk when I drive. I have TOLD you.
‘My dad left when I was young.’
Miriam smiled. ‘So, you didn’t like him?’
‘Not really, no …’ He waited. ‘But I didn’t try to decapitate him, as I recall.’ He felt Wren’s hand on his arm, pressing him to ease off. ‘But, Miriam, do you know of any concrete reason why Micah’s dad would be … unlikeable?’
‘No. David was a lovely man and I have no clue why Micah did this. I think it’s possible we might never know. Till heaven, that is.’
‘We’re planning on finding out way before then. Finding Micah’s mum might help.’
Miriam closed her eyes.
‘You really have no idea where she is?’
‘She’s travelling, Matthew. You know that, already. Could be in Timbuktu for all I know. I hear she liked foreign things.’ She yawned.
‘You’re tired,’ Wren said. ‘We should go.’
‘The drugs, I guess.’ She sniffed. ‘Sorry.’
‘PC Bowland gave you her card too, didn’t she?’ Matt said. ‘If you were curious about the investigation why didn’t you ask her?’
‘Oh, give the woman a break, Matt.’ Wren blushed and hooked a thumb at him. ‘This brain of his. It’s always fizzing with questions. I apologise.’
‘No, I’ll answer,’ Miriam looked at him. ‘PC Bowland is a policewoman and you’re just a university lecturer. I figured you’d be a lot less busy.’
Wren burst into laughter and Miriam started to smile.
‘Can I ask one more question?’ Matt said, and Wren groaned. ‘Why did you risk your life to save me? We only just met.’
Wren stopped groaning. ‘Actually, I’d like to know that, too.’
‘That one I’ll gladly answer …’ she said. ‘Too many Christians sit in their little church bubbles and ignore the pain of the world. But that’s a dishonest way to live. I read the Bible differently, Matt. I believe Christians should get into the situation and help out, at any cost. Jesus was extremely hands-on and I think we should be hands-on too.’
‘You could have died.’
‘Oh, I knew I wouldn’t, because Jesus said so. I prayed in my car, see.’ She smiled, and her eyes started to sparkle. ‘So, I didn’t even have to think about it. I just heard the Lord say, Help him, so I did. He said, Save that man, and look … I’m fine, you’re fine and heck … even the lady with the gun is fine.’
Wren reached for Miriam’s hand. ‘Well, I think it’s amazing.’
Miriam blinked slowly. ‘I heard you used to be a vicar, Matthew. Is that right?’
‘How did you know that?’
‘I saw you on TV. They said you were a reverend.’
‘Ah, but that was a long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.’
‘Well clearly not that far … because judging by today your God is clearly still looking out for you. You’ll always be marked out as a father of the flock.’
‘I’m not sure I agree with you on that.’
‘Oh, I know it. It’s a lifetime identity.’
Wren spoke for him. ‘Well I don’t know about him, Miriam, but I’m starting to believe in miracles.’ She squeezed Miriam’s hand for the hundredth time. ‘Now listen. If you’re getting out of hospital today, you’ve got to let us treat you.’
She tilted her head. ‘I like the sound of that.’
‘At the very least we’re taking you out to dinner.’
‘Oooo,’ she smiled, ‘I’m free tonight.’
‘How about your house? I do love home cooking’ − she winced − ‘unless that’s too much troub—’
‘Shush,’ Wren said. ‘That’s decided. You’re coming to ours for dinner tonight. Let’s say 7.30 p.m? Do you have any food allergies?’
‘None.’
She smiled at Matt. ‘I love this woman.’
Matt checked his watch. Visiting time was almost done. ‘How are you getting home? We could drop you back.’
‘Oh, I’m sorted for that, and thanks again for the plant. It really is beautiful. I’ll treasure it.’
‘And thank you,’ Wren stood, ‘for all that you did today.’
‘No biggie, really … and Matt?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Try not to get shot again, okay?’
‘Will do.’ He nodded to her and they both headed out into the hospital corridor, weaving through the nurses and visitors.
‘You know something? I think she’s astonishing,’ Wren said.
‘Mm-hmm.’
‘All that stuff about Christians getting stuck in and actually helping. I mean, after what she did today, that’s pretty damn inspiring. Don’t you think?’
‘Mm-hmm.’
‘Like, if the churches put themselves out for people like that, it’d make a lot more people consider religion.’
‘Mm-hmm.’
They reached the lift and as they waited for it to arrive, he listened as Wren talked about how sacrifice was, in many ways, the absolute key to a healthy society. He just nodded and hummed his responses. Deep in thought. The doors slid open. They went inside. It was empty.
It was when the doors finally closed that she changed the subject. ‘Er, Matt?’ she said to his reflection. ‘I have something to say …’
‘Uh-oh. What?’
‘I think you could be grateful for what she did.’
‘I am grateful.’
‘I mean, more grateful. Like, a lot more. She saved your life.’
‘We don’t know that for certain. I could have just got a flesh wound, just like she did.’
Wren snapped at him, ‘Matthew.’
You do NOT talk when I drive. I have TOLD you.
‘Sorry.’ He turned to her. ‘But don’t you think she’s a little … peculiar? A little, I don’t know … off-piste?’
‘Matt, you think all Christians are off-piste.’ She waited for a moment and took his hand. ‘What’s bugging you? Is it Sean? Are you thinking about that? God knows I am. Or what happened in Chervil?’
His eyes followed the white circle of light, blinking its way down the numbers. ‘I just find her a little odd, that’s all.’
‘Well, she’s awkward, I’ll give you that. Not so great at eye contact, either.’
‘Oh, she’s terrible. She’d be crap in a job interview …’ He turned from the lights and threw his arms around her. ‘But listen … I am grateful. I really am.’
‘God, that gun … I was so scared. What a day …’
She squeezed him, and he squeezed her back, his nose and mouth lost in a mass of red hair. They both heard the lift door open, but it was a little too soon to break it off.
She kissed his cheek as the bodies pushed by them for space. ‘Here’s to miracles,’ she said.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Ever lifted his plate from the table and, as usual, went to wash it in the sink, but Mum rushed over and tugged it from his hand.
‘Nope. Not today,’ she said. ‘I’ll wash yours.’
He frowned at her, but a smile quickly replaced it.
As scary as this new development was, it was kinda fantastic to be treated like one of the men for a change. He turned to make sure Merit was seeing all this, but her chair was empty.
Darn.
He’d find her and tell her, but for now he just watched everybody else smearing the last lines of soup from their bowls with torn chunks of bread. Prosper, by contrast, had his elbows on the table, both hands in a steeple under his chin. He wasn’t saying much. Just thinking and blinking. He’d spilt a little soup down his jumper, which he dabbed with his thumb and sucked.
‘We’ll do it tonight,’ Prosper suddenly announced.
Everybody looked at each other. They knew what he was talking about. And now Ever did too.
‘When the sun goes down, we’ll get the Hollow and … practise. It’ll be easier than you think, Ever. Heck, you might even like it. Might even love it.’
‘Well, my mummy says …’ Pax spoke into her palm and rocked in her chair, ‘killing’s a nope. Not a nice.’
‘Hope said that?’ Milton burst into laughter. ‘I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick there, ya retard.’
Pax stopped rocking.
‘Milton, take that back.’ Uncle Dust reached out and touched her hand. ‘Hope hates you calling her that.’
He coughed. ‘Sorry, Pax.’
Ever nodded to the empty chair, changing the subject. ‘Where’s Merit?’
‘Daisy rope,’ Pax whispered.
‘Huh?’
‘Daisy rope.’
His mum leant in to translate. ‘She went to make daisy chains in the front garden.’
‘Can I join her?’
She looked at Prosper for permission. He glanced out of the window. ‘Okay. We can watch you from here. But don’t go far.’
He pulled on his jacket, stepped into his trainers, and clomped out onto the porch, but Merit wasn’t in the garden after all. There were, however, a trail of scattered daisies near the shed. He glanced at the shed door and saw no movement. But he knew that beast was in there. The same breed that wrapped a chain around his mother’s throat and stuffed Dust’s mouth full of sand. He saw himself grabbing an axe, kicking the shed door in and chopping the Hollow into chunks. Maybe he’d peel the skin right off its face and snap off one of its fangs or claws. He could throw it on the kitchen table and take a bow. How brave would he look then?
But no … because he wasn’t that brave. Not yet, anyway.
He followed more flowers, scattered along the grass. They led to their old rusty white van, which apart from last night hardly ever came out. He breathed fresh air in and smelt lavender on the breeze, then he rested his chin on the kissing gate. This gate, he knew from repeated lessons, was the most important boundary for the children. ‘Never ever walk beyond it. Not ever, Ever!’ It was a sentence chiselled into his brain. But he was allowed to look across it, at the dirt road.
‘Where is she?’ he whispered to himself and could hear the blossoming worry in it. Determined to get a higher view, he clambered onto the gate. It creaked as he climbed but it was an ideal ladder to survey the area and track Merit dow—
‘Jesus.’
He saw it.
He saw it and his heart stopped.
Right at the end of the dirt track, just around the curve. He saw a long cream car.
The shock made him step back without thinking. His foot trod air. He dropped into the dirt, arms flailing. He’d lost his height now, so the parked car was now hidden behind the tall grass. But he saw something move behind a bush at the side of the road up there.
He gulped.
Merit was stumbling through the thick hedge, thorns snagging her long hair as she staggered onto the track. Her face − he gasped at this − was white with terror, and across her mouth he saw something bizarre. A thin and dirty cloth was tied tight, so that it pressed her cheeks back and showed her teeth. Then the worst part of all came up over the hill, from where the car was waiting. A lanky figure was striding out, straight out of hell itself. It looked young, probably about Pax’s age, and its long spindly arm reached out, trying to grasp her hair.
No!
Ever’s fingernails snapped into the beams of the gate, as he watched Merit rip the gag clear of her mouth. She let out a heart-stopping, hill-splitting scream, but it was too late.
The thing grabbed her hair in its fist and yanked her hard, backwards.
&nb
sp; ‘Get off her!’ Ever yelled, then he jumped in shock.
The thing jerked its head towards him. Eyes wide and wild, ready to hypnotise.
He threw his hands across his face, covered his eyes.
Then he spun around and darted back to the farmhouse, racing with every ounce of strength he could pump into his legs. The field and hill filled with the sound of two things only. The pitiful squealing of Merit, and the panicked cries of Ever calling out the same word over and over again.
‘Hollow! Hollow!’
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Matt sat at his desk in the warmth of his cabin, and clicked on a video-call. He heard Skype beeping out it’s jaunty tone. The screen flickered into life, and Jill Bowland sprang onto screen, sitting in front of a row of filing cabinets.
‘Hi,’ Matt sat back into his chair. ‘Is this still an okay time to talk?’
‘Yes, but my word, Matt …’ she said. ‘I heard about what happened this morning in Chesham.’
‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Nobody got badly hurt, thankfully.’
‘Having quite the forty-eight hours, aren’t you?’
‘You could say that … hey, is that your daughter? The one who lives overseas?’
She turned her head towards a photograph, sitting on the cabinet, of a young woman holding a laughing baby. ‘That’s Sara, yes, and my granddaughter, Bethany. She made me this,’ she lifted her wrist and her thin little wristband jiggled. ‘Wear it every day.’
‘I noticed it. How cute … and how old’s Bethany these days?’
‘Oh, she’s much older now, but I haven’t … I haven’t spoken to her in …’ She trailed off and tugged her sleeve over her wrist.
He saw her face change, and he tilted his head. ‘I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.’
‘It’s complicated, but then most things are … but anyway, back to it. What did you want to talk to me about?’
‘Firstly, how’s David East doing?’
She swung a little on her chair, looking more Uhura than ever. ‘He’s actually making remarkable progress. They’re hoping he’ll be out of the coma soon.’
‘So maybe we could talk to him, together? Get to the bottom of this Micah thing.’