by Graham West
They found an inoperable brain tumour, and three months later, she died. If ever Laura had wanted to believe in the spirit world, it was then. But she picked herself up and carried on with life. Alison was gone; she wasn’t suffering anymore, and that gave Laura comfort when the going got tough. Church had been Peter’s idea. He had no doubt that his little boy could see the spirits of dead people. He just wasn’t ready to come clean yet.
Laura had always taken a practical approach to things. If there was an afterlife, then why hadn’t Alison bothered to come back in some form or another? She had a point. Cody would be the first person she’d have visited. Alison loved that kid, yet he had never mentioned her. Not once.
The TV was on. Peter scrolled through the channels while his wife poured herself a large glass of red wine. That wasn’t a good sign. The alcohol never helped when she was in a foul mood, but he decided it was time to play the supportive husband.
“As soon as we get back, we’ll take Cody to see someone,” he said.
Laura took three gulps from her glass and shot him a look “Well, if we go through the NHS, Cody will be drawing his frigging pension before he gets assessed.”
“Okay, we’ll go private.”
“We haven’t got the money, Peter.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said. I said that there must be people out there, and there are. But I’ve looked at some of those forums and there are mums who’ve been waiting months—even years—to get help for their kids.”
Peter shrugged. “Well, we could at least get the ball rolling.”
Laura shook her head. “I know, but this fucking government doesn’t give a shit about kids like Cody. They don’t give a shit about anyone with mental health problems. One mum said they just closed down her local centre and left her kid swinging. The nearest place was fifteen miles away!”
“Special needs?”
Laura nodded. She’d calmed down a little. “The thing is, Cody is a real complicated kid. If he thinks someone doesn’t believe him, he’ll shut up shop.”
“But we’ll try,” Peter answered.
Laura was distracted, scrolling through another forum. “We’ve got no choice. And it will do more good than a church.”
“So, you don’t want to go anymore?”
“Not really. Look, I’m sorry. That minister seems genuine enough, but if I don’t believe in God, it seems hypocritical to get him baptised just in case I’m wrong. He needs proper help, not some pie-in-the-sky thing.”
Peter Nelson wasn’t sure his wife’s rather crass dismissal of the Christian faith would have gone down too well at St. Jude’s, but he wasn’t going to argue the point right now. He still wanted to get Cody into God’s family, and that, if he understood it correctly, was what baptism meant. Joining the family. If The Almighty didn’t exist, it wouldn’t matter. But if he did, then the boy would be in good company.
Chapter Six
Dennis Blakely watched the steady stream of cars pulling into the park: families at the beginning of an adventure, queuing at the desk to register and pick up their keys while their kids waited excitedly. Porters in electric buggies waited to take their guests to the woodland lodges. His heart raced. There was a buzz about the place on these days, and he loved it. They had opened the doors for the first time twelve months ago, to coincide with the schools’ summer break, and although it had been a success, they would never have been able to compete with the bigger parks without the pool.
Blakely had watched the huge steel-framed structure slowly morph into a building that resembled a large Victorian mansion with its cream walls and mock sash windows. Inside, under the same roof as the large soft-play area, were three squash courts, a games room and a café bar. The big glass doors led out onto the outdoor pool with its tables, parasols and sun loungers. But it was the indoor Aqua Adventure, with its slides, fountains, wave machine and storm simulator, that had given him the greatest sense of achievement. They had been his plans, roughly sketched, that had passed through the hands of the architects before final approval, and now it was there. Blakely had often wandered around, late at night, scarcely able to believe what he saw.
It had cost millions, but he’d considered it to be worth every penny. The new soft-play area catered for the toddlers not quite ready for the woodland rides, and the cinema would be opening next spring, showing family films on wet afternoons. Of course, the park provided bright yellow ponchos bearing the Mosswood logo for those families determined to enjoy the outdoors regardless of the weather.
Most guests brought their own bicycles, usually carried on roof racks, but those who didn’t could hire them. Each lodge had a canopy at the rear, where the cycles could be kept, with a post and padlock. There had been very few negative comments in the visitors’ book, and nearly all of the guests had left a glowing account of their holiday experience, vowing to return.
A third of the farmland they’d purchased had now been developed, and phase three would begin in the autumn. That would include the public gymnasium they had promised the council, along with a second pool, a health spa and tennis courts. The accountants expected a decent return with a membership fee of fifty pounds a month, well within the means of the locals.
Blakely had planned a separate entrance from Wood Lane, with a walk through from the adventure park, where the guests would be invited to use the facilities free of charge. His dream was slowly becoming a reality; if only he’d thought twice before leaving Jacob Root’s body in the ground.
He saw Jenny first, walking hand in hand with Jake, followed closely by Rob and Josie, who pushed little Isaac in a buggy. Rob smiled broadly, and Blakely soon found himself surrounded by the family. A young man stood alongside a girl hovering in the background. Jenny ushered them forward.
“This is Kayla, my sister, and Darren, my brother,” she said as Kayla stepped up, giving him a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek. Darren shook his hand. “I think we’ve met,” he said. “I saw you wandering around the place when I was working on the lodges.”
Blakely nodded. There had been so many builders and carpenters on site that it was hard to place him. “Well, you won’t be able to complain about the accommodation, then,” he joked.
Darren laughed. “The party was great.”
Jenny rolled her eyes. It had been an all-day event, held a few months before the park opened. All the staff and site workers were invited along with any friends and family they wished to bring. All the facilities were open, but Darren had headed straight for the pool and stayed there for most of the day.
“He was such a child,” she joked.
“Hey, don’t knock it. That’s where I met Danielle.”
“Oh my god,” Kayla groaned. “Those two are welded together!”
“Yeah, you’re just jealous,” Darren shot back.
“Of you? Get real.”
Blakely had the urge to take Jenny aside and rush her up to the attic, where the silicone Amelia awaited, but decided it was best to let them settle in first. They were here for the week. There was plenty of time.
***
Darren was missing his girl already, but Danni had decided to stay at home. “It will be a bit awkward,” she confessed. “With Alex working there and all that. I’d be on edge.”
Alex must have been close by when Darren first spotted Danni hurtling down the loop slide in a yellow bikini. He watched her for over an hour before plucking up the courage to head over and join her at the poolside café where she was sitting with a glass of cola.
They’d got talking; she’d admitted she was seeing someone at the time but seemed quite happy to chat and he’d given her his number just in case. She’d called him a few weeks later, wondering if they could meet up.
It had started as a friendship. Danni hadn’t been ready for a physical relationship and wanted to see how things developed, but three months later, she’d called at his flat one evening and, after a few glasses of rosé wine, decided to stay over.
The drink had lowered their inhibitions and they’d ended up naked on top of the covers.
It was a while before she changed her status on Facebook, aware Alex would probably see it, but Danni assumed that her ex would have moved on by then. “Alex was okay,” she’d told Darren, “but he was a bit too intense. It kind of put me off.”
In response, Darren had kissed her forehead. “Just tell me if I get too clingy, okay?”
Danni had smiled. “Maybe I don’t mind intense and clingy when it’s the right person.”
They had been inseparable since, and Darren couldn’t imagine living without her. She possessed a kind of girl-next-door prettiness that he found engaging, and although he was looking forward to the holiday with his family, it wouldn’t be the same without her. “When you get back, we’ll book somewhere hot. Just you, me and my skimpy bikini.” That image of a semi-naked Danni would get him through the next seven days, wherever he was spending them.
Chapter Seven
Cody Nelson flung himself on the bottom bunk. “Wow! Dad, can I sleep here?”
“Of course,” his father replied, parking his son’s case on the floor.
“Can I sleep on top too?”
“Not at the same time.”
The witty reply went over his head. “Can we go swimming?”
“Yes.”
“And cycling?”
“Sure.”
“Can we go right now?”
“Which? Swimming or cycling?”
Cody frowned. “Erm…cycling!”
Peter Nelson left his son bouncing on the top bunk and threw his own case on the double bed. “Shame Cody’s not in the same room,” he whispered. “It might stop you-know-what.”
Laura gave him a rueful smile. “I know. Let’s just hope he gets distracted.” There was a weariness in her eyes. “I’ll unpack. You take Dee on his bike.”
Peter never really liked his wife’s tendency to shorten Cody’s name but it wasn’t worth the hassle of bringing it up in conversation. “You sure?” he asked.
Laura nodded “Yep. Just wear him out, if you can.”
The Nelsons had a plan. They would stay up late and have some family time, watch a Disney movie with lemonade and a pizza. Peter had bought a few bottles of Prosecco for Laura and a crate of beer for himself. They’d only put Cody to bed when he’d fallen asleep, hoping that his creepy friends didn’t wake him in the night.
“Come on, buster! Let’s get going,” he called, pulling on a pair of trainers.
“Yeahhhhh!” Cody screeched, running past him and heading for the door.
Peter unchained the two bikes from the roof rack and set them down, placing a bright-yellow helmet on his child’s head and a more sombre blue one on his own. “Okay, son, let’s roll. You keep to the front!”
Cody set off, pedalling hard. It was good to see him behaving like a typical seven-year-old. Maybe he’d make friends at the pool later. There had to be a kid somewhere that would be happy to play with him for a few days, and with any luck, Cody might just manage to forget about dead people for a while.
***
Jenny Adams looked around the room. “This is a whole lot of wood!” she said with a wry smile.
“You like it?” Jake asked, unable to hide the pride he felt.
“Yeah, it’s cool, just very…well, woody!”
Jake laughed. “That’s the idea, babe. It’s a woodland lodge.”
“Hey! I’m not criticising. Just saying,” Jenny replied, still taking in her surroundings.
“Well, I like it,” Rob said. “You’ve done a good job on this, son.”
“Well, thank you, sir!” Jake replied. “Although I did have some help.”
“Huxley and Sons made a wad of cash on this place,” Darren added. “Although I think I spent more time making cups of tea than I did cutting up wood.”
Jake laughed. “You did okay, Daz. Huxleys are a team. Tea’s important.”
Darren had an affection for Mosswood. It was the contract to fit out the lodges that had allowed Jake’s father to take him on in the first place. If it hadn’t been for him, Darren’s life would have been very different. No job. No girl. He glanced down at his phone. There was no message either. Not yet. Don’t text. Don’t get too intense. Don’t be another Alex, or whatever his name was.
Josie arrived back from the site shop, huffing and grunting, placing the bags of food on the table. Jake dived in immediately, pulling out the groceries like an impatient child.
“There’s pizza, bacon and eggs,” Josie said, leaving Jake to unpack. “Just watch those eggs! There’s butter and milk, plus a few ready meals. Oh, and some bread and cereal.”
Kayla pulled a face. “Are we gonna get some drink? I could murder a pint of cider right now.”
Josie rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t carry any more, hun. We’ll head over to the mini-market after we’ve unpacked.”
Jenny stretched and yawned. “Actually, I could do with a glass of wine too. How about we leave the unpacking and go find the bar?”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Kayla agreed. “Let’s get ourselves a welcome drink!”
Within five minutes the Adams clan were heading off to the bar with Isaac in his buggy. Jenny hung back as they approached the hotel. It didn’t matter what they did to that place, it was still the Stanwicks’ old home, and that little window, way up there…it was still Amelia’s window. The one from which she had looked out every single day of her wretched life. And that room would always be the little attic room where Allington had raped her. The room where he had snatched the baby from her arms. Jenny stared up, half expecting to see Amelia standing there, watching. But there was nothing. No one.
“Hey, babe, you okay?” Jake called back.
Jenny smiled and nodded. “Yeah.” She pulled her eyes away from the house. “Couldn’t be better. Let’s get those drinks.”
***
Alex had swapped his ranger top for the slightly smarter hotel uniform of a white collared shirt and black trousers. The first day was the busiest, as the adults always headed straight for the alcohol, celebrating their freedom, but on the second day, the kids usually took control. Blakely asked him to work in the bar for the day although Alex wasn’t too keen serving drinks to the tables. That was a waiter’s job and he hadn’t signed up for that. But if things weren’t bad enough, they just got worse—a whole lot worse. He had walked over to the table in the corner, with a tray of drinks balanced precariously on one arm, remembering that he was supposed to engage with the customers, so he smiled politely and wished the family a good holiday.
The lad who was glued to his phone looked up and nodded. That was when Alex caught a glimpse of his screensaver. It was Danni—his Danni. In a fucking bikini. His heart plummeted like a stone; his chest felt as if it were about to collapse under an unbearable weight. It had to be him—the guy who had taken his girl.
Alex said nothing; he couldn’t risk his job, and fighting with a guest would definitely see him back at the Job Centre. Spitting in that scrawny bastard’s drink, though… Well, who’d know? But what was the point, if the sewer rat never got to know either? He watched him—whatever his name was—grinning like the fucking Cheshire cat, texting Danni; probably telling her what he wanted to do the next time they were alone together. Alex checked Danni’s page looking for that photo. Me and my babe.
Yes, it was him.
Less than thirty minutes later, the older man from the table walked over to order more drinks. Maybe it’s the bastard’s dad. Stay cool. Smile. He ordered the drinks. Then Alex heard himself asking, “That lad, the one looking at his phone. I think I know him from somewhere.”
The guy looked at him quizzically. “Really?”
“Yeah. What’s his name?”
“Darren.”
Alex frowned. “Darren? Darren who?”
“Pascoe.”
So now he had a name. The name Danni had missed off her profile picture. Her status had been updated an
d yes, she was in a relationship but there was no other information. Why?
Alex shrugged. “Sorry. I must be confusing him with someone else.”
Marie, a new starter with a pixie face, interrupted. “I’ll bring your drinks over, sir,” she said breezily. She turned to Alex. “You look shagged out. Wanna take a break?”
Alex shook his head.
“You look like you need one.”
“Okay, I’ll take ten,” he said, still feeling as if someone had kicked him in the gut. The staffroom, which was like a cupboard with a drinks machine squeezed in, was private enough. He took his phone out and punched in Darren Pascoe’s name. Well, it was worth a try. He had nothing else to do.
Alex scrolled quickly through the pages. There weren’t as many Darren Pascoes as he’d expected, which was probably why it didn’t take long to find an item from some regional newspaper. Two youths had been sentenced for killing a mother and her five-year-old child. It was a hit-and-run, but it seemed they hadn’t run that far. Pascoe’s face stared back at him. The photo, while not particularly flattering, was definitely the same lad.
The report was a few years old, but those things had a habit of hanging around unless someone actually made the effort to get rid of them. Alex wouldn’t have read beyond the first paragraph, but then he caught sight of another photograph. It was the dead woman’s husband. Robert Adams. Alex gasped.
“Holy shit!” It was him. The guy who’d just ordered drinks at the bar. This is crazy!
Alex stared, wondering if he’d finally flipped. It couldn’t be? Could it? What was this bloke doing with Pascoe? The scumbag who killed his wife and kid?
Alex’s heart raced; he read through the report again, wondering how they had got away with naming two sixteen-year-old boys who’d stolen a four-wheel-drive from outside Alshaw Park. Wasn’t that illegal? Maybe the judge had lifted the reporting restrictions, or perhaps the newspaper had gone out on a limb and paid for it later.
