by Graham West
“I’m not a kid, Jo, so stop treating me like one. I left school twenty-odd years ago, so don’t act like I’m still there, okay?”
“I’m not—”
“Yeah, right! That look you just gave me? That’s the same look my headmistress gave me when I spilled my milk all over her desk.”
“Honestly, Rob, you come out with some shit sometimes. You’re not a kid, and I’m not treating you like one. You’re a grown man who knows he has a problem with the bottle. Don’t you remember waking up in your own vomit?” Josie took several steps forward, lowering her voice. “I do, and so does Jenny. Maybe Kayla will be the one who finds you next time it happens?”
“It won’t happen,” Rob protested, feeling as if he’d already lost the fight and was throwing a few dying punches. “I’ve got it under control.”
Josie sighed. “I really hoped we’d never have this conversation because we both know it will never be under control unless you stay well clear. That glass will just remind you of what you’re missing, and then the next glass will be just that little bit harder to refuse…”
“I can handle it!” Rob wasn’t going to give in. Not this time. “I’ll prove it to you!”
He pushed past her, storming through the lounge and out onto the patio, where he pulled out a chair and placed his glass on the table, wondering why he’d given in so easily tonight. He’d been happy with coffee, or maybe a cola with ice, and over the past few years it had become easier to resist. But tonight, his resolve had crumbled in an instant.
It was at least twenty minutes before Jenny appeared, looking suitably stern. “What’s going on, Dad?” She stood over him with her arms folded. That was something she’d picked up from Josie.
“I’m having a drink. What does it look like?”
Jenny shook her head. “Why now? Why today?”
“Well, that’s the million-dollar question, sweetheart. Why now, indeed!” Rob felt light-headed. Okay, the glass was nearly empty, but surely it couldn’t be the alcohol.
“I think you’ve had enough, Dad. I’m going to get you a coffee.”
Rob was angry, but it wasn’t his anger. “Of course, sweetheart.” He sneered. “You get me a coffee, and I’ll get some more wine.”
He stood awkwardly, steadying himself against the table. “This is my holiday too, Jen. I deserve a drink after what I’ve had to put up with.”
Jenny glared. “Put up with? What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I’m going to get myself a top-up.” Rob wondered how he’d ever managed a bottle of whisky when a glass of chardonnay was making him this tipsy.
“Don’t bother!” Jenny hissed, pushing him so he fell into the chair. She disappeared back into the lodge, calling, “I’ll get it for you.”
There was a brief, heated exchange between his daughter and Josie. Rob could hear the voices, but the conversation was drowned by the thumping in his head. Jenny reappeared moments later, slamming the bottle down on the table with such force he was surprised it hadn’t smashed into a thousand pieces.
“There!” she screamed at him. “Drink yourself to death if that’s what you want!”
“It’s just a bottle! Stop being such a bossy bitch!”
Jenny looked stunned. “What did you just call me?”
“I called you a bitch, because you’re behaving like one.” Rob had no idea where all this was coming from. He’d never called his daughter a bitch—ever.
Jenny was too incensed for tears. “Why? Because I’m trying to protect you? I don’t know what’s brought this on, but I’m telling you, next time I find you lying in your own puke, I’ll be leaving you. Let Kayla clean it up!”
Rob didn’t answer. That was the second time they’d used Kayla as some kind of threat. Jenny left him listening to the birdsong as the sun dipped behind the trees. This wasn’t how he’d planned it. It should have been idyllic, sitting with a glass of wine outside a woodland lodge on a warm summer evening.
He thought about Melissa. Her face was as clear in his mind as it had been the day they’d met in the salon. Josie was a good-looking woman, but there was something about Mel. He wondered what would have happened if she’d said yes and they’d married. Maybe she’d still be alive. Thousands of women survived breast cancer with the right treatment. He’d have a proper family, not a dysfunctional one. Just him and Mel and Kayla.
Rob’s thoughts drifted, though he was aware he was viewing life through the glass. Things were beginning to take a different shape. Why did he beat himself up every time he thought of Melissa? Elizabeth had given him a hard time for months over his affair, even though she was sleeping with Benjamin Pascoe. Then she’d gotten herself pregnant and pretended Jenny was his.
As he made his way back into the lounge, he knew, in his father’s words, the devil had his tongue. It would only take a word from Josie or Kayla, both of whom watched him walk through the lounge and into the kitchen. Rob filled a glass from the tap and returned, sitting at the table as if nothing had happened. Josie glared at him.
“You finished, then?” Jenny muttered.
“Finished what, exactly? Finished enjoying myself?”
“You shouldn’t need alcohol to enjoy yourself,” Josie said, her face contorted by anger. “You have us—your family!”
It was what Rob had been waiting for. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to stop, but he couldn’t.
“Oh, is that right?” he growled. “Well, I’ve put up with some shit over these past few years, and yet here I am, still playing dad to a girl who isn’t even mine—a girl whose mother lied to me for seventeen fucking years and would have continued to lie if some little shit hadn’t killed her!”
Jenny gasped and looked at Darren, whose mouth hung open.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” Rob bellowed. “I’ve built this family. I’ve learned to forgive and tried to forget. I’ve tried to forget the lies. I’ve tried to forget that I nearly lost my daughter because I was too busy trying to keep Benjamin Pascoe’s girl out of the lunatic asylum! I’ve put up with all that, and you begrudge me a drink?”
Jenny began to sob, and Darren looked down at his hands, rocking gently backward and forward. Kayla walked over and sat on the arm of the chair, placing an arm around Jenny’s shoulder. There was a steeliness in her eyes. She’d seen worse than this. Much worse.
Rob was done. He felt empty, and the room was beginning to spin. But he saw Josie closing in.
“You bastard!” she screamed and slapped his face so hard the force knocked him off his feet. “And when you get up, you can apologise to everyone!”
Rob closed his eyes. He felt so drunk. It were as if the floor had opened up, sucking him down. The world faded, and Rob let himself slowly sink into a stagnant, stinking pit of despair.
Chapter Nineteen
“You look like you need an early night.” Penny glanced up from her laptop, studying Blakely over her reading glasses. “Well, at least the girl is okay.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. They had all been relieved when Bailey Rosales had turned up, but he was still wondering how he was going to exhume a skeleton from under a concrete slab without closing the park. However, it was little Cody Nelson who had really freaked him out, and now the net was closing. Maybe it was time to tell his wife exactly what was going on. She knew what her father-in-law was like and would understand the pressure he was under when he’d ordered the builders to concrete over the shallow grave of a man who had lain there for over a century.
Blakely had lied about the dreams. Trust was something they’d been trying to build for nearly three years, and lying about anything at all wasn’t going to go down well. He stood at the window looking out towards the woods. Families were still around the park, relaxing at the tables as their children played on the swings and slides. The darkness was closing in but the air was warm. Soon, the lights would come on and the restaurant staff would wind down.
“I’m going for a walk,” he told Pe
nny. “Just checking everything’s okay.”
Penny smiled. “Okay. Don’t be getting tied up with anything. If you’re needed, they’ll call you.”
Blakely nodded and set off down the stairs, passing through the reception and into the grounds. He loved the long summer evenings when he could walk through the park and take a coffee by the lake. It was the place he would go to sit and think, but tonight, all the tables were full and there was still a small queue at the snack shop. The underwater lights were visible beneath the shade of the surrounding woodland, illuminating the plants and fountains. The air filled with the chatter of the children as they played around the water’s edge. Blakely joined the queue, listening to the conversations. If they had any complaints, he’d hear them on the park and swing into action before they got onto the social media sites.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone was watching him. The man appeared to be in his late fifties, overweight with a ruddy complexion and wispy grey hair which looked in need of a good combing. He was sitting alone at a single table with a glass of orange juice. Blakely caught his eye, smiling briefly, before turning his attention back to the guy serving drinks. “Just a flat white, please,” he said, wondering if the grey-mop-topped man was still looking his way.
The coffee was pretty decent. In fact, it was bloody good. The company had gone for the best machines, although he’d never realised how much was involved in making a coffee these days or how expensive the kit was. But he had wanted five-star reviews on Trip Advisor, and if the food and drink wasn’t up to scratch, they could forget the high ratings. He sat down on a bench by the water; the coffee might have been good but it didn’t solve the problem of what exactly he was going to tell Penny. Maybe he’d leave it till the end of the season. But then there were the nightmares…and a kid who saw dead people.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a voice behind him. “Mr. Blakely?”
The stranger who’d been watching him sidled up and sat down, uncomfortably close, and reached out a hand. “I’m sorry to intrude. My name’s Stephen Matthews. I was on the council here, several years back.”
Blakely wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be impressed but guessed this wasn’t just going to be a social chat.
“I retired before you bought this place,” Matthews explained. “I wasn’t happy about having an adventure park in Tabwell at the time, but you’ve done well. I guess there’s nothing wrong with a bit of progress.”
Blakely nodded, relieved he wasn’t going to end up listening to the gripes of a disgruntled local.
“I’m here with my daughter and grandkids. They’ve been wanting to come for ages. They absolutely love the pool and the play area.” Matthews’ smile faded. “But I try to keep them away from the forest, to be honest.”
Blakely frowned. “Oh, really? Why?”
“You have over a square mile of woodland back there. Haven’t you ever wondered why it’s never been developed?”
“Well, I guessed it was down to money. Didn’t the council run out of funds?”
“There was more to it than that. A lot more.”
“Like what?”
Matthews shook his head, looking across the water. “It’s something I’d rather not go into. It happened a long, long time ago. Well before the days of the girl in the attic. But there are a lot of very influential people in Tabwell who want it all kept under wraps.”
Blakely was intrigued. “I’m sorry, Mr. Matthews, but why are you telling me this?”
“Because I feel it is my duty to warn you.”
“About what?”
“Okay, tell me something. Why did you fence off the woods?”
“Because it was overgrown.”
“Wasn’t it all overgrown?”
Blakely thought for a moment. “Yes, but not as much.”
“So you sectioned off the habitable part. The area that was easiest to landscape.”
“I guess.”
Matthews turned. His breath smelled of whisky. “Mr. Blakely, I’m on your side, so please listen to me.” He paused. “You’ve put that fence in the right place, but I would make absolutely sure that no one in this park crosses it. And then I’d replace it with a six-foot wall as soon as you can.”
“A wall?”
“Yes. You can make it as fancy as you like but make sure it’s high! No doors—just brick. Cover it with ivy if you want, but for Christ’s sake, don’t even consider developing anything on the other side. You’ve gone far enough, Mr. Blakely. Your adventure park is fine. But it needs to end at that sign.” Matthews stood and held out his hand once more. “Good to speak to you, sir. I hope you take my advice.”
With that, he turned and walked away. The guy looked unkempt and weather-beaten. Blakely thought Matthews might have a drink problem, although he didn’t seem to be drunk or even tipsy. But a wall would cost thousands, and Blakely would have some explaining to do when his father asked why he wasn’t developing the extra square mile of woodland. So unless that guy gave him a damn good reason, the plans for Mosswood would be going ahead.
Chapter Twenty
Robert Adams woke, fully clothed and lying on top of his duvet. He stared for a moment at the ceiling fan whirring silently above him, wondering where the hell he was. The place smelled of wood and coffee with maybe just a faint whiff of breakfast. He remembered Mosswood but couldn’t recall how he got to be lying on top of his bed in a shirt and jeans.
“You’re awake, then?”
He looked over to see Josie standing in the doorway with expression of disgust on her face. “We’ve had our breakfast and they’ve all gone to the pool with Isaac.”
“Already? Why? What time is it?”
“Ten-thirty. Mid-morning.” Jo was barely keeping a lid on her temper.
“Why am I lying here in my clothes?” Rob was still trying desperately to recall anything from the previous evening.
“You’re lucky you didn’t wake up outside the front door with your suitcase!” she snapped. “You’ve got some serious apologising to do, Rob.”
“What? Why? What have I done?”
Josie rolled her eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You know full well. You weren’t that pissed, surely?”
Rob thought he must be in some kind of dream. He couldn’t recall anything.
“It was only one bottle of wine, but you can’t take alcohol these days. Why did you do it? Why?”
Rob tried to sit up, but the pain in his chest made him gasp, and Josie lurched forward, seeming to forget briefly that she was angry with him. “Hey! Are you okay?”
“Yeah, must have just twisted awkwardly.”
She sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. “You said some really shitty things last night. Jenny doesn’t even want to see you at the moment.”
“Christ! What did I say?”
“You called her Benjamin Pascoe’s girl.”
“What?”
“And you were pretty rotten to Darren as well. You were like a different person. I just don’t know what happened.”
Rob closed his eyes, suddenly feeling cold. Something was wrong. This wasn’t about the alcohol. He took Jo’s hand. “I can’t remember anything. I don’t even remember opening a bottle of wine—I don’t even remember what happened before I opened the wine.”
Josie frowned. “You’re serious?”
Rob nodded. “The last thing I do remember…” He squeezed her hand. “Was going into the forest with Darren.”
***
Alex enjoyed driving. It may have been little more than a glorified golf buggy, but it had two seats in the back and sometimes he gave the kids a ride. But today was a really bad day. He still had them—days when he wished he was dead—and it was all about a girl. Even the most patient and understanding counsellor would be thinking it was about time he got his act together and grew up.
Maybe he would have started to heal, but now he’d met Darren and the world had become a whole lot darker. Okay, it might have be
en his fault, but admitting it wasn’t going to bring her back. Maybe if he’d not spent last night listening to Sam Smith lamenting a lost love he’d be feeling a little more perky, but wallowing in his own misery was somehow comforting. “A pig might be happiest in shit,” his father had remarked one day, “but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still shit.” Alex knew exactly what he meant.
He parked up outside the hotel and walked into reception. Penny Blakely was issuing instructions to a couple of staff members; he caught her eye and smiled. Alex liked her. She was good with the pep talks at the monthly meetings and insisted everyone was on first-name terms. She could be strict when she needed to be, but if you were having a bad time, she was always willing to listen. There had been occasions when he’d even thought about confiding in her. Maybe she would have the right words.
Alex was on a break and had twenty minutes to spare. He glanced around for Darren Pascoe. There was enough time to go looking for the bastard, but there was no sign of him in the reception or the restaurant where the late risers had just finished breakfast. Maybe he’d shoot over to the pool. The gang Darren was with had a kid in tow, and that might be the first place they’d take him. With any luck, the prick would have drowned himself before Alex got there.
Alex pushed the cart to its max, which was probably about twenty miles per hour but felt more like fifty. He arrived at the pool at the same time as Pascoe. It was difficult to see his face clearly from a distance and Alex was running out of time. He was on woodland duty, with specific instructions to keep kids from crossing that fence. Two little brats had managed it yesterday, and all hell had let loose when only one came out. It had been okay in the end, but they couldn’t afford another episode.
Darren Pascoe had hold of the kid’s hand, leading him up the steps and through the entrance below the two giant blue Perspex dolphins. Alex thought about texting Danni again. He had nothing to lose, but decided he had little to gain either. Maybe he should go out tonight. He was on an early shift, which would give him time to hook up online and book a room at the Lakeside Hotel. Alex sighed, spun his cart around, and headed back towards the woods. Perhaps it might be better to buy himself a couple of bottles of cheap white wine and drink himself into a stupor.
