SweetFreak
Page 20
‘Thanks, I’d love that.’ I look down at the faded carpet, wondering if normal things like kids’ parties will actually ever be part of my life again. Sandy might have missed the local news bulletin but the police are still looking for me and poor Amelia is still missing.
‘We should go,’ Blue says. I can tell he’s wondering if the police will find us here. I don’t see how they can – Mum has no idea where Dad lives and no idea that I know and I’m certain neither Jamie nor Poppy will have remembered this address.
Still, Blue’s probably right to be careful. There’s no point taking chances.
‘Will you be getting the bus back to . . . to Cornmouth? That’s where you live, isn’t it?’ Sandy asks.
I nod. It seems weird to imagine Dad over here, telling Sandy about his old home with us, while we had no idea about her and his life here.
‘You should let your mum know you’re on your way home,’ Sandy goes on, then, catching the look on my face, raises her eyebrows. ‘Your mum does know you’re here, doesn’t she? She’ll be worrying if she doesn’t hear from you.’
‘Sure,’ I lie, feeling guilty. ‘Don’t worry, Mum knows I’m fine. Er, Blue’s right, we should go.’
Sandy sees us to the door, little Teddy in her arms.
‘Don’t be a stranger,’ she says. ‘Come again and bring Jamie and Poppy too. Teddy would love to meet them.’
‘OK.’ I smile and give Teddy a little kiss on the cheek. He babbles at me, kicking his legs in delight. ‘Bye-bye, Baby Bear.’ I’m using the pet phrase we have at home for Jamie. A stab of guilt pierces me as I think again of how upset and worried Mum and the others will be.
Blue and I wander away from the house. We’ve let Sandy think we’re on our way back to Cornmouth but in fact we have no idea where to go next. I check my pockets. Just under thirteen pounds left. That’s enough for another pair of bus tickets somewhere local and maybe a couple of sandwiches.
Then what?
‘Put your hood up,’ Blue warns as we turn onto a busier street.
I do as he says.
‘We need to get some food then find somewhere for tonight,’ he goes on. ‘Seti always used to say finding shelter for the night was the priority, especially when it’s cold.’
‘Yeah. Sure.’
‘I’m sorry I got you thinking maybe your dad would be there.’
I shrug.
‘Was it weird seeing your brother like that?’ Blue asks.
‘Kind of . . .’ I glance at him. He has told me so little about his own circumstances. ‘Do you have brothers or sisters?’
‘No,’ he says. He looks away.
‘So . . . you’ve never really explained how you ended up here, living rough . . .’
Blue shrugs. ‘I don’t really like to talk about it.’
‘Come on,’ I say. ‘You know all about what happened to me.’
There’s a long pause.
‘Like I said, after my dad died we moved and I went to a new school. I got in with a bad crowd of people, went along with some stuff I shouldn’t have, then ended up taking take the blame for . . . for something that happened.’
‘But why did that mean you had to leave home?’
‘I didn’t,’ Blue says. ‘That is, I didn’t leave my home with my mum. She . . . didn’t cope well when Dad died. Getting worse and worse until . . . around the time I got into trouble . . .’ he lowers his voice, ‘Mum had to go into a psychiatric hospital, she’s still there actually. I visit her every now and then, but . . .’ He trails off.
‘Oh, Blue.’ I stare at him, horrified. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘So I got put into foster care. That’s what I ran away from.’
‘I see,’ I say, though I’m aware I don’t really understand at all. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose both your parents. ‘Wasn’t there anywhere else you could go?’
‘My dad’s parents were dead and my mum’s family live in Poland. I only met them a few times, so they’re practically strangers. Anyway, I didn’t want to go to Poland.’ He stands up. ‘Look, we’ve got a bit of cash for tonight, we should get some food. At the squat Seti and a couple of the others used to bring stuff back, but before I met her I got food from the bins behind—’
‘Do you think they shoplifted the food?’ I ask, wide-eyed. It hadn’t occurred to me before, but after Seti’s performance at Taylor’s house it makes sense.
‘Possibly. Probably.’ Blue grimaces. ‘But when you’re starving you don’t ask too many questions. And when you can’t go home, you have to find a way of fitting in with the home you’ve got.’
Home. We’re passing the entrance to a shopping centre. It’s full of people intent on going in and out of the shops. I’ve only been gone a couple of nights, but it seems like a million years since I was in my own home with Mum nagging and Poppy teasing and Jamie demanding I play with him. I’m being really selfish not calling them.
‘I should let my mum know I’m OK,’ I say, scanning the passers-by. ‘I’m going to ask if I can borrow someone’s phone.’
‘Of course,’ Blue says, a wistful note to his voice. ‘They’re your family, you shouldn’t give up on them.’
I go over to a group of teens hanging round the entrance to a nail bar.
‘Excuse me,’ I say, smiling at a girl with bright blonde hair hanging on the arm of a tall, handsome boy in a biker jacket. ‘I really need to make a call. Could I borrow your phone? I’ll give you a pound.’
The biker jacket boy snorts. ‘A pound? Make it a tenner and I’ll consider it.’
The others laugh.
‘A pound’s all I’ve got,’ I say, feeling desperate.
‘No way.’ The blonde girl makes a face. ‘Get lost.’
‘Please.’ The rest of the group are looking at me now. ‘I’m not going to run off with it, and I’m not calling abroad or anything. It’s really important.’
‘Who’d you need to call so bad?’ the blonde girl asks.
They’re all looking at me now. I can see Blue in the background, arms folded, watching closely.
‘My mum,’ I say, unable to think of a lie that will sound in any way convincing. ‘I need to let her know I’m OK.’
‘Ah,’ the blonde girl says nastily. ‘She wants to call her mummy.’
‘Stop it,’ says the shortest guy in the group. He has a dark scar on his forehead.
‘Come on, she’s gonna take it and call America or something,’ the girl protests.
‘No,’ I say. ‘I promise. It’s just Cornmouth.’
There’s a short pause. ‘Here.’ The boy with the scar holds out his phone. ‘You can use mine. And you don’t need to pay, so long as you’re not too long.’
The other guys prod him and laugh. I take the phone and shuffle sideways so I’m out of earshot. The group watch as I open the keypad. I can’t phone Mum directly, because I don’t know her work or her mobile number off by heart. But I can call Poppy and she’ll be able to let Mum know I’m OK. Besides, it’ll be easier to speak to my sister. Mum is going to be furious with me.
I punch in my sister’s number.
The phone rings and my heart beats faster.
30
The borrowed phone rings a second time. A third.
Come on, Poppy.
‘Yeah?’ My sister answers at last.
Tears spring to my eyes at the sound of her voice.
‘Poppy?’ I say. ‘It’s me.’
‘Jeez, Carey!’ Poppy gasps. ‘When I told you to run I didn’t think you’d take this long to get in touch. It’s been two whole days. Where are you? Are you OK? Mum’s going mad worrying and the police are—’
‘I’m fine.’ I sniff back my tears. ‘Tell Mum I’m fine and . . . and I didn’t do anything . . .’ I hesitate. ‘She does believe that, doesn’t she?’
‘Honestly, Carey, she’s in such a state she doesn’t know what she’s doing half the time.’ Poppy sucks in her breath, her voice shaking. I glance up. The
guy whose phone I’m using is watching me. He raises his eyebrows as if to ask how much longer I’m going to be. ‘Listen,’ Poppy goes on. ‘I was wrong to encourage you to run off before. You should come home. We’ll go to the police together. You didn’t do this. We’ll make them realise and—’
‘How will we make them realise?’ I demand. ‘I told them before I didn’t do anything and they didn’t believe me. And they refuse to investigate Taylor, so—’
‘Taylor?’ Poppy says. ‘You still think it was him? The police say he has an alibi.’
‘That alibi is a friend of his – he could have got her to lie for him. I even went to his house to look for some sort of proof against him but . . .’ I trail off, too embarrassed to tell my sister how Seti conned me into breaking in and stole Taylor’s mother’s jewellery.
‘I was in his house too, earlier today in fact,’ Poppy says grimly. ‘But none of that matters now. You have to come h—’
‘You were at Taylor’s? Why?’ I glance over at Blue. He’s standing a few metres away, glaring at the guy whose phone I’ve borrowed. With his shaggy hair and furrowed brow, he looks for all the world like a guard dog, standing over me. I’m suddenly aware of how much I like him, how it feels like I’ve known him for ever.
‘I took Jamie over to play with Blake, Mum thought it might take his mind off worrying about you,’ Poppy explains. I instantly feel awful for upsetting Jamie. ‘Blake and his mum had just got back from holiday. Taylor was there too with some blonde girl. Snooty cow. Abi, I think her name was.’
‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘I’ve met her. She’s the one he claims he was with when Amelia went missing.’
‘His mum was in a bit of a state because the house had been broken into and they had some things stolen.’
Shame fills me. At least by now Taylor’s mum should know all that jewellery has been handed over to the police.
‘Anyway, Jamie wanted to show me something up in Blake’s room so I went up and Taylor’s room is opposite. That’s where I saw Abi.’
‘In Taylor’s bedroom?’ A few days ago this news would have filled me with jealousy. But now I find that I don’t care. I glance over at Blue again. He smiles at me and his face lights up. My stomach gives a funny little skip.
‘Yeah, silly cow was simpering all over him, like all flirty but teasing. I hate the way girls do that,’ Poppy complains with a sigh. ‘This Abi was going, “Ooh Taylor, I found this weird key in your pocket, what’s it for? Ooh, is it the way to your heart?” Ugh!’ She pauses. ‘So where are you, Carey? I’ll come and get you, just—’
‘Tell me about the weird key,’ I ask, a thought shifting inside me. ‘Did you see it?’
‘Yeah. Abi kept whining about it. She was all . . .’ Poppy puts on a thin, high voice, ‘ “What’s this for? Your secret love nest? It’s not very romantic, Taylor, it’s got a skull on the end.” Blah, blah, puke.’
‘A skull on the end?’ My blood runs cold. ‘Oh, my God, that’s the key to the Haunted Hut.’
‘The haunted what?’ Poppy asks.
‘It’s a place just past the industrial estate, down a dirt track. I’ve never been there but . . . but Taylor was supposed to take me. And he definitely took Amelia there before he dumped her. The last time I saw that key it was buried in Taylor’s desk drawer.’ I hesitate, searching my memory of last night’s rummage through the same drawer.
The key definitely hadn’t been in there.
‘So why would he be carrying around a key to some weird hut?’ Poppy asks. ‘Because he was well irritated with Abi for pestering him about it.’
‘He didn’t say he wanted to go there with her?’
‘Definitely not,’ Poppy says. ‘In fact he got seriously annoyed with her, accused her of sneaking around in his stuff. But Carey . . .’ Her voice cracks. ‘I’ve answered your questions. Please come home.’
I bite my lip. The guy whose phone I’m using is walking towards me, an expectant look on his face.
‘I think I know what’s happened to Amelia,’ I say quickly.
‘Never mind Amelia, just—’
‘I think Taylor met her in Bow Wood and argued with her . . . maybe hurt her, I don’t know. He certainly dumped her mobile there. Then he took her to the Haunted Hut.’
Poppy sucks in her breath. ‘You mean he’s keeping her prisoner there?’ She sounds confused. ‘Why on earth would he do that?’
‘I don’t know . . .’ I can’t bring myself to express what I’m really afraid of: that Taylor lured Amelia to the hut then attacked her, leaving her stranded there hurt and afraid, or worse . . .
‘Anyway, the industrial estate is miles from Bow Wood,’ Poppy persists. ‘Surely someone would have seen them if they’d gone all that way?’
‘Not necessarily.’ The past few days have taught me how easy it is to keep a low profile.
The guy is right in front of me now. He holds out his hand for the phone. My time’s up. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Blue hurrying over.
‘I have to go, Poppy.’
‘No, wait. Carey, you need to come home. Let the police—’
‘Tell Mum I’m safe.’ I ring off and hand the guy his phone. He takes it without a word and turns away.
‘Is everything OK?’ Blue asks.
I nod, though in reality nothing is OK. Blue frowns, then takes my hand.
‘Tell me the truth,’ he says.
‘I’m even more convinced Taylor’s behind it all,’ I say as we walk towards the shopping mall exit. ‘He set me up from the start. He hacked into my computer and sent Amelia all the SweetFreak messages and then got someone at our school to put that dead pigeon in her locker and now I think he’s attacked her and . . . and she’s in the Haunted Hut.’ I feel sick at the thought. Is Amelia still alive?
‘The haunted what?’
‘It’s an abandoned hut just past the industrial estate.’
‘Why would Taylor do any of that?’ Blue asks, clearly perplexed.
‘Because he likes manipulating people and he doesn’t care who gets hurt. There are just too many coincidences. He has Amelia’s necklace which she never takes off and the key to the hut was in his pocket.’
‘OK.’ Blue frowns. ‘Even if he does have her necklace and has recently used the key, it doesn’t prove they’re connected or that he took the necklace from Amelia or that he’s locked her up in the hut.’ He pauses. ‘Like I said, even if Taylor did the hacking and hid the dead pigeon like you’re saying, which seems unlikely, as in really not his style, I don’t see why he would kidnap Am—’
‘Amelia must have found out Taylor was SweetFreak.’ I take my hand away from Blue’s. My heart bumps against my ribs. ‘Somehow she found out the truth so she called him and demanded they met. That’s who she was going to see when she disappeared.’
Blue stops walking. We’re on the street now, outside a betting shop with a picture of a footballer in the window. The sun beats down on our heads and yet I shiver. Why is Blue refusing to accept what seems obvious to me?
‘Carey, please,’ he says, his eyes dark and intense. ‘I really don’t think Taylor would kill or kidnap—’
‘How do you know? You don’t even know Taylor.’
There’s a long pause.
‘Actually I do,’ Blue says.
I stare at him. ‘What?’
‘You remember telling me about the boy Taylor set up to take the blame for the school fire?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Well . . . That was me.’
‘You’re kidding.’ I can’t believe it. ‘No, that boy’s name was Mooney, I remember them all saying at the party.’
‘Yeah, that’s my name. My surname, anyway. That’s why I got the nickname Blue in the first place. Blue Moon, like in the Man City song. I liked Blue better than my real name but at stupid Bamford House lots of people just get called by their surnames.’
‘You were at school with Taylor?’ My mouth gapes. ‘Why didn’t you say when I
told you the story?’
There’s a long pause. A chill wind whips across our faces, sending a plastic bag scudding across the pavement ahead.
Blue shrugs. ‘I kept meaning to tell you, but I was embarrassed. Ashamed.’ He pauses.
‘Go on.’
‘After my dad died, we came into a big lump sum of money and my mum decided to send me to Bamford House. She thought she was doing the right thing, that going private would mean smaller classes and opportunities she never had. Whatever, I didn’t want to leave my old school and I hated it at Bamford. I never fitted in.’ He pauses. ‘I didn’t want you to know how weak I was but the truth is that when Taylor invited me to join his gang I was pleased, even though I didn’t really like him or his friends. I thought it meant I was being accepted, but Taylor just wanted somebody he could boss about. I shouldn’t have gone along with the fire, but I didn’t know how to say no. I swear I didn’t light it, but I did stand by while Taylor did. I made it easy for him to pin it on me. Which is exactly the sort of thing he does. You’re right that he’s manipulative. A total chancer. But that’s the thing: Taylor is impulsive. Spontaneous. Reckless. All this SweetFreak stuff was planned, premeditated. That’s not him.’
‘You’re wrong,’ I insist. ‘You don’t know what he’s capable of.’
‘Or maybe you’re just trying to make Taylor guilty because it’s what you want to believe.’ Blue frowns. ‘If the police thought he might be responsible they’d already be investigating him.’
‘You’ve got a lot of faith in the police for someone who took the blame for a fire because they failed to investigate it properly.’
‘Actually, I think the police knew I was innocent. They certainly suspected other people were involved. But the school needed a scapegoat and I was an easier one than Taylor.’
A feeling of utter desolation sweeps over me. It’s not just that Blue doesn’t believe Taylor’s guilty. Far, far worse than that is the fact that he didn’t tell me the truth about knowing him in the first place. I turn away, tears pricking at my eyes.
‘You lied to me,’ I say.
‘I didn’t, I just didn’t tell you the whole truth,’ Blue insists. ‘Which you didn’t either, when I met you. Remember? I only found out why you were on the run because the news was on in the squat.’