Down to Sleep

by M K Farrar

  “Oh, no. I couldn’t do that. We’d have to sell the house, and I couldn’t face moving back to somewhere different. It would all be too strange.”

  So, Natalie had smiled and said she understood, but they both knew the truth. The house was the one place that still held all their memories of their only son, and they simply couldn’t bear to be without them. There were memories everywhere for Natalie, too, but they evoked a different emotion in her than they did her parents. Everywhere she turned, she remembered things that had happened when they were children—there was the treehouse where he’d first told her that he wanted to see her underwear, and that he’d show her his if she just let him look. There was the front step, where he’d tripped her as she’d been going into the house, and she’d fallen and cut her chin so badly she’d needed five stitches. And there was the oven where he’d grabbed her hand and put it on a burner that had only just been turned off, and then had yelled to his parents that Natalie had hurt herself. Yes, there were memories everywhere, but she’d never share any of them with her mum and dad.

  Natalie was good at keeping secrets.

  An hour later, she was parking in front of the house she’d grown up in. She sucked in a breath, fixed on the mask she wore each week, and climbed from the car. Her mum was at the door before she’d even walked up the path, and Natalie smiled. Cynthia Anders must have been watching out for her car to pull up.

  The mouth-watering scent of baking drifted from the hallway behind her.

  Her mum wrapped her into an embrace, squeezing her hard, and Natalie hugged her back. Sorrow and guilt rose inside her. She had no doubt she was loved, but that would all change if they knew the truth.

  “Hi, Mum. Something smells good.”

  “I did a roast chicken and a rhubarb crumble.”

  “It’s not Sunday.”

  “That doesn’t matter. We can eat roast chicken whenever we like. It’s not like there’s some roast dinner police who’s going to come around and tell us off.”

  Natalie laughed. “I know that. It’s good to see you.”

  “You, too. You’re looking well.” Her mother held her at arm’s length to appraise her. “There’s something different about you. You did something to your hair?”

  “No, I didn’t. It’s exactly the same.”

  But maybe she had made a little more of an effort today. She’d put on mascara and some lip gloss and had chosen her clothes with more care than normal. After all, she’d bumped into Kyle in a supermarket car park, when she’d been wearing a baggy shirt and her most slouchy jeans. She didn’t want to take the risk of bumping into him looking like that again—though she knew the chances of seeing him in Devon were ridiculously remote.

  “Well, whatever it is, it’s working.”

  “Thanks , Mum.”

  She was warmed by the praise. Maybe she should make an effort more often. It might help her feel better about herself. She stepped into the house and followed the hallway down to the lounge. Her dad, Glenn, was in his usual chair, a newspaper in his lap, and his reading glasses on.

  “Hello, love. How was the drive down?”

  “Fine. The car made it, which is something.” She leaned in to plant a kiss to his cheek.

  Did her dad look more tired than normal? Thinner? He was sixty-eight, and it had only been a week since she’d last seen them, but today he seemed older.

  “Everything okay, Dad?” she asked,

  Even his smile was tired. “Yes, fine, love. How’s things with you?”

  She shrugged. “Oh, you know, much the same.”

  “How’s work?” her mum asked as she carried three mugs of tea into the lounge. “Still working in that pub?”

  “For the moment.”

  “Any plans to go back to studying?”

  Natalie didn’t miss the hope in her mother’s voice. It was no secret that they felt she’d wasted herself by dropping out of university, and that she was better than working in the crappy pub. Maybe she was, but she couldn’t see far ahead enough to think about a future.

  But she hated seeing the disappointment on her parents’ faces, and she wanted to give them something to be happy about, something to be proud of her for.

  “I went on a date the other day,” she blurted, suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager again, instead of a twenty-five-year-old woman.

  Her mother’s expression instantly brightened. “You did? That’s wonderful. How did it go?”

  Natalie nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I think. He’s new to Bristol, so he’s probably more just wanting to make friends than anything else.”

  But he’d kissed her, and she wanted to touch her fingers to her lips at the memory of that kiss.

  “I’m sure that’s not true, sweetheart.”

  She shrugged again, trying to make herself seem less keen than she really was. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to see.”

  Her father grunted and set down his newspaper. “Tell us all about him then.”

  “Well, his name is Kyle, and he works with computers, though I couldn’t quite understand what he was talking about when he started to get technical. He seems to have done okay for himself, though. He lives in a nice part of the city.”

  “Is he handsome?” Her mother’s eyes lit up, and Natalie got the impression she was trying to live vicariously through her.

  Heat filled her cheeks. “Yes, he is. Tall. Dark hair and blue eyes. Nice teeth.”

  Cynthia laughed. “Nice teeth are always a bonus. So, are you seeing him again?”

  “I hope so,” she admitted. “He said he wanted to see me again, though I’m not totally sure why, to be honest. Maybe he’s a bit desperate.” She laughed to try to hide her discomfort at speaking the truth about how she felt. She couldn’t really understand what someone like Kyle would see in someone like her, but even so, that tiny piece of her heart that ached for somewhere—someone—to belong to wanted desperately to believe this was real and that it could actually mean something.

  Her mother leaned out and squeezed Natalie’s hand. “Oh, sweetheart. You have plenty to offer. You’re beautiful—” Natalie had to hold back a snort at that. “And you’re kind and sensitive and thoughtful. Any man would be lucky to have you. I wish you could see that about yourself.”

  “You’ve been through a lot in your life, Nat,” her father interjected. “You’re a strong person, and resilient, too. Don’t let anyone make you think any differently.”

  If only they knew the truth. Their love and kindness killed her inside.

  She forced a watery smile. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Everywhere she looked, there were framed photographs of Anthony. Some were gap-toothed school photos, where he grinned into a camera in his school uniform. Others were family holidays, at the caravan in Cornwall where they’d always stayed during the summer. She was smiling in the picture, but she recognised the wariness in her eyes. Anthony had been torturing her the whole time they’d been away. She’d done her best to hide what was happening from her parents, but she remembered them noticing her silences and how she’d never wanted to sit near him when they went for dinner. It had made her appear sulky and jealous, but what more could she do? Any time she tried to tell them what was really happening, Anthony always managed to twist things around to make her seem like the bad one. She knew her parents were aware that they couldn’t look as though they were favouring their real son over their adopted daughter, but sometimes he was such a convincing liar he even made her doubt herself.

  Before long, they were seated around the kitchen table. They tucked into the delicious meal, but the spare seat might as well have had a ghost filling the space. Even though it had been years since Anthony had died, his presence still managed to fill the house.

  “I’m stuffed,” Natalie announced, pushing her almost empty plate away. “I couldn’t eat another thing.”

  “Not even pudding?” her mother enquired.

  “Okay, maybe pudding.” She was going to get fat if she kept eating l
ike this. Natalie frowned, noting her father’s plate and the amount of food it still contained. “You not hungry, Dad?”

  “Oh, I had a big breakfast.”

  Maybe he had, but that would have been hours ago, and it wasn’t like him to not eat a home-cooked roast dinner.

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Gosh, you’re as bad as your mother. Stop making a fuss.”

  Natalie exchanged a glance with Cynthia, who shrugged and rolled her eyes. There was one thing Natalie’s dad hated more than anything else, and that was a fuss.

  IT WAS DARK BY THE time she got back to Bristol.

  Natalie crossed the shared entrance hall, opened her front door, and reached in to flick on the hallway light. As she stepped inside and shut the door behind her, something fluttered across the floor.

  She paused and frowned down at the item. Someone had pushed a small cutting of newspaper under the door while she’d been out. That was strange. There was a main front door, where the post was delivered, and then a shared hallway for her and the couple upstairs, and then her own front door. So, whoever had delivered the piece of paper must have first come through the front door.

  It was probably Mina, perhaps sharing a recipe, worried about her living on toast and instant noodles.

  Natalie stooped and picked up the newspaper clipping. Still frowning, she unfolded it.

  Cold prickles ran down her back.

  A teenage boy with blond hair stared back at her.

  Natalie gasped, almost doubling over from the force of seeing the photograph. But then she blinked and checked again. No, it wasn’t a picture of Anthony. This was just a boy who looked very much like him, but it wasn’t him.

  The newspaper article was a recent one. Sixteen-year-old Callum Sayers was missing from his home in County Durham. The article was appealing for any news on his whereabouts.

  Why had someone put this under her door?

  She stared into the smiling face of Callum Sayer. He really did look uncannily like Anthony. It had to be a coincidence, though, didn’t it? Perhaps there was a reason to think the boy had come to Bristol, and someone was trying to see if people in this area recognised him and so had put the clipping under her door to raise awareness. They’d have no way of knowing her past.

  So, why was it under your door, and not through the letter box of the building?

  She had no idea. The next time she saw Mina, she’d have to remember to ask her if she’d been delivered the same newspaper clipping, and if they’d let anyone else into the property. It had most likely been someone canvassing.

  But if that was the case, why was she so certain her upstairs neighbours wouldn’t have any idea what she was talking about?

  Chapter Five

  She’d slept fitfully, unable to get either Anthony’s or Callum Sayer’s faces out of her mind. A part of her had wanted to screw up the newspaper article and throw it away, but the other part knew she needed to keep it to show Mina, if she should bump into her. If they’d received the same clipping, she could put her mind to rest.

  It was barely nine in the morning when her phone rang.

  A quick glance at the screen revealed Kyle’s name, and she answered, her insides fluttering with excitement.

  Kyle didn’t even introduce himself. “What are you doing today?”

  “Oh, nothing really.”

  “Great. I’ll come and pick you up. What’s your address?”

  She found herself babbling it off. The phone call had surprised her, but it was a good surprise.

  “See you in twenty minutes. Wear comfortable shoes.” And he hung up.

  Twenty minutes? That was nowhere near enough time to get ready. Thrown into a frenzy, she raced around the flat, digging a decent pair of jeans out of the laundry basket, holding them to her nose to make sure they didn’t smell too musty, and then running to the bathroom to try to tame her hair and throw on a little makeup. He’d told her to wear comfortable shoes. Did he mean trainers? Boots? Where was he taking her? She decided on a pair of trainers and pulled them on her feet, and then chose a lightweight jacket.

  Now she was ready, her nerves at seeing Kyle again increased. She paced her living room, chewing anxiously at her thumbnail. What if he saw her again and suddenly regained his senses and wondered what the hell he’d seen in her?

  His car pulled up outside—a brand-new, black Audi A4. It stood out like a hawk among pigeons in this area. Her stomach knotted. What was he going to think about where she lived? She suddenly wished she’d told him to meet her wherever it was they were going instead of having him pick her up.

  The driver’s door opened, and Kyle climbed out. He stood on the side of the road, his hands on his hips, staring at her building. Then he checked each side of him, frowning at the rest of the street.

  She had to get out there before he asked to come inside. If he thought the road was bad, she could never let him see the inside of her flat. She was mortified, wanting to shrink down into nothing.

  But he knows you’re not wealthy. The first time he saw you, you were standing beside your car. Someone who has a lot of money does not drive a car like that.

  She tried to rationalise it to herself, but she was still embarrassed.

  Natalie grabbed her bag and keys and hurried from the flat.

  “Kyle, hi,” she called out as she yanked her front door shut behind her.

  He managed to tear his gaze from her road and focus on her instead. She caught a glimpse of dismay in his eyes before he covered up his reaction with a smile.

  He leaned in, his hand on her waist, and kissed her cheek. A waft of expensive aftershave filled her senses. He’d told her to wear comfortable shoes, but even though he wore jeans and walking boots, he still managed to look as though his entire casual outfit cost more than her car.

  “So,” he said, “this is where you live?”

  She gave a tight smile. “Yes, it is.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “Almost a year now.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “A year?”

  “It’s handy for me to get to work, and I can catch a bus into town right around the corner.”

  “But you have a car,” he pointed out.

  “Yes, I do, but I only use it to go and visit my parents in Devon at the weekends.”

  “And for shopping.” He grinned, referring to the way they’d met.

  “True. I can’t deal with all the plastic bags cutting into my hands if I tried to carry it home.”

  “You could lose your fingers attempting that.”

  She laughed. “It certainly feels that way.”

  “And what about the area?” He looked around doubtfully. “I mean, is it safe?”

  “Yes, it’s fine, honestly. I know it seems a bit rough, and we do sometimes get drunk people on the street and the occasional break-in, but everyone is really friendly. It’s not like one of those places where no one even knows what their neighbours are called.”

  He glanced over at her. “Like my neighbourhood, you mean?”

  She shrugged, suddenly shy. “I wouldn’t know what your neighbourhood is like.”

  He pursed his lips. “I think we’ll have to change that soon, don’t you?”

  Her face burned, and inwardly she squirmed, but she was pleased as well as self-conscious. “I’d really like that.”

  She hoped that if they went to his place, he wouldn’t suddenly see how much she didn’t fit into his world. She’d never had ambition for much—only trying to make it through each day—but she discovered herself wanting this, actually wanting something for herself. A tiny spark of desire had ignited inside her, and it wasn’t a sensation she was used to.

  “So, where are we going?” she asked as she rounded the Audi to the passenger side and climbed in the car.

  Kyle got behind the wheel and started the engine. “I told you, it’s a surprise.”

  They drove out of the city, taking a different route to her
usual trip onto the M5 and down towards Devon.

  It suddenly occurred to her that she was in a car with a man she’d only just met, driving away from home, and she didn’t even know where they were going. Classical music played softly on the radio, and the big, expensive car hummed gently as it ate away the miles. It was a complete contrast to the noisy roar of her own little Ford Fiesta.

  She glanced down at her bag at her feet. Her phone was inside. If he told her where they were going, she could send someone a text and tell them, so if she did go missing, the police would at least have an idea of where to search for her.

  She shook the thought from her head. What the hell was wrong with her? A perfectly lovely man was taking her out somewhere, and she was freaking out that he was going to abduct her. Why did her mind work that way?

  Because you’ve seen the darker side of life. You know what people will cover up about themselves. You had to learn that quicker than most.

  “Penny for them?” His voice broke through her thoughts.

  She flashed a smile. “Sorry?”

  “I just wondered what you were thinking about.”

  “Oh, nothing much.” She made up a lie to avoid having to tell him she was considering if he might be about to abduct her. “Just my dad. He seemed more tired than normal when I went to see them yesterday.”

  “I’d love to meet them one day.”

  He’d surprised her again. “You would?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why?”

  He covered the back of her hand with his. “Isn’t that what people normally do when they really want to get to know someone?”

  This was only their second date. She didn’t think most people requested to meet the other person’s family quite so soon.

  He must have sensed her hesitation. “I’m sorry. That was too much, wasn’t it?” He let out a sigh. “I can’t help myself with you. I don’t know why. The first moment I met you, it was like something had hit me. I’ve never had that before.” He laughed again, nervous this time. “Christ, sorry. I’m doing it again. Just tell me to stop.”