by Graham West
***
Blakely had planned to tell Penny about the body before they went to sleep but then she had ruined it by climbing under the sheets naked and turning off the light. Before he’d had time to utter a word, her hands were on him and Jacob Root hadn’t seemed quite so important. Penny wasn’t going to let him forget that she could turn it on, just in case there was another girl like Kim lurking in the shadows with her sights set on a man with a bit of money in the bank.
They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, and when he woke she was standing in front of the full-length mirror, studying her reflection.
“Do you think I should get my boobs done?” she asked.
He wasn’t a boobs kind of man. “Why? They’re fine.”
She cupped her breasts, pushing them upwards. “Maybe a little more perky?” She squinted, moving her head from one side to the other. “And I was thinking of getting a tattoo.”
Blakely was shocked. “A tattoo?”
She grinned mischievously. “Maybe a risqué one. Just for us.”
“Like what?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I just thought it might be fun.”
Penny was in a good mood and, by the look in her eyes, enjoying her role as the temptress. The subject of Jacob Root and his remains could stay on hold.
***
Josie believed him, though there was confusion in her eyes. “You can’t remember anything at all? Not even the burger and fries?”
“I had burger and fries?” Rob said.
That confused Rob even more. Since his heart attack, Josie had been keeping tabs on his fast food intake.
“We all did,” she replied with a smile that belied the fear in her eyes. “I figured the occasional treat wouldn’t do you any harm.”
Rob wasn’t a fast food freak by a long way, but he did enjoy fries and a takeaway now and again. Even though it hadn’t been a major heart attack, Josie wasn’t tempting fate. “That stinks. I get to eat greasy fries and don’t even remember it!”
Jo grinned, but the situation wasn’t funny and they both knew it. Total lapses in memory might be a sign of things to come, and he was already imagining his gradual slide into dementia.
“It’s probably nothing,” she said, reading his mind. “But maybe you should go and see Doctor Elworth when we get back.”
“But why did I say those things? Why did I even have a drink?”
Josie shrugged. “I tried my best to stop you, but you were determined.”
Rob closed his eyes and started counting inside his head. It was an instinctive reaction to having woken in a surreal world where whole chunks of time had gone missing. But when he opened them, Josie was still standing there like a mother hen. Was that what dementia felt like before it took over completely?
“Hey, get yourself a shower, and we’ll meet them by the pool,” Josie instructed. “You could use a strong coffee.”
Rob groaned. He didn’t feel much like a coffee or anything else for that matter. He swung himself off the bed, but his time, there was no pain in his chest, just a dull headache which he’d cure with a couple of pills.
The sun streamed through the tiny window as Rob stepped into the shower cubicle, but he had never felt so empty. It were as if his soul had been ripped out, leaving nothing more than a walking corpse. Perhaps this wasn’t the onset of dementia but something sinister. Something to do with Mosswood.
***
Cody Nelson saw Jacob Root that night. His parents had locked the windows and doors and told him that if he went wandering again, they’d be on their way back home before lunchtime. He’d woken just after midnight and climbed out of the top bunk, wondering why the curtains were open. The figure he saw standing by the cycle shed was barely visible through the trees.
Cody reached inside the bedside cupboard and pulled out a small set of binoculars Santa had left him last Christmas. He didn’t usually end up with things he hadn’t asked for, but he loved them just the same. It wasn’t easy to focus in the moonlight—he’d tried to look at the stars many times—but the cycle shed was under a direct shaft of light, and there stood the familiar figure of Jacob Root with a pitchfork in his hand.
Cody wanted to tell him he was sorry, but the window was locked. At first, Jacob seemed to understand and raised the fork, stabbing it into the ground, but then he looked just plain angry, and for a moment, Cody was afraid. Then the figure faded just as it had done the other night, leaving the pitchfork in the ground. Cody reluctantly returned to his bed, pulling up the covers before drifting back into an uneasy sleep.
He rose early to a breakfast that included two rounds of toast cut up into strips and served with a runny egg, followed by a bowl of chocolate pops, which he stirred and stirred until the milk turned brown.
As soon as he was done, Cody made his way across to the cycle shed, where he found Bailey, staring blankly at the pitchfork.
“Who put that there?” she asked as he approached.
It was probably best not to tell her. He didn’t want to go through all the ghost stuff again.
“Dunno,” he replied, trying to sound as if he didn’t care. “One of the gardeners probably left it.” In a way, he wasn’t lying. She didn’t need to know the gardener in question was the one whose cottage they’d visited yesterday.
Bailey pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked the cycle she’d hired for the week. It was bay thirteen.
“Thirteen is unlucky,” Cody said, hoping Bailey might laugh. But she just turned and glared.
“That’s stupid. Superstitious people are idiots!”
Cody was getting fed up of her insults. “I was kidding,” he said with a scowl.
“Well, it wasn’t funny, asshole!”
“I’m not an asshole! You’re an asshole!”
Bailey gave him a look—the kind his mum gave him when he did something bad. But Bailey wasn’t a grown-up, and she didn’t have the right to talk like that.
“Well, you’re just a stupid girl. Just cos you’ve got public hair doesn’t mean you can treat me like a kid.”
“You are a kid! And it’s not public hair, stupid. It’s pubic.”
“I don’t care!”
Bailey pulled out the bike and stood it up against the shed wall. “And I’m not a stupid girl. You think you’re smarter than me just cos you’ve got a penis?”
Cody was shocked. Girls weren’t really supposed to talk about willies. Not like that!
“That’s rude!”
“Why? That’s the proper name. You’ve got a penis and I’ve got a vagina. So what?”
“You’re disgusting. And you’re nuts too. You don’t even remember how you got home yesterday. Maybe a ghost gobbled your brain.”
Bailey glared and walked over. Although Cody was only a couple of inches shorter, she seemed to tower above him. He shuddered, ice running through his veins. There was a strange smell on her breath as she pressed her forehead against his.
Keep away, little boy! Stay out of the woods!
Bailey’s lips barely moved and the voice seemed to come from her belly. It sounded like someone who had a really sore throat or was being strangled. Cody let out a gasp as Bailey shot back as if someone had pushed her. She stood for a moment looking dazed.
Cody’s heartbeat felt like a hammer. “What do you mean? Why did you say that?”
Bailey frowned. “Say what?” She looked around to see if her bike was still there.
“You don’t know what you just did, do you?” he asked, backing up a few steps.
Bailey suddenly burst into tears. “What’s up with me? I feel all mixed up, like there’s something horrible inside my head.”
Cody took another step back, hoping she wouldn’t notice, but Bailey seemed to sense everything he felt. “Go on—go if you want. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone!”
It wasn’t the right time to argue. He could be brave another day. Right now, it might be better to stick with his mum and dad and keep out of Bailey’s w
ay. She was acting strange. He’d always believed the dead couldn’t hurt him, but Bailey Rosales certainly could.
***
Darren was relieved to see Rob in one piece, even if he did look a little stressed out. Josie had been ready to give him a black eye and Jenny wasn’t planning on making things easy for him, either. He watched her pulling Isaac along in his rubber ring, splashing like crazy. Kayla was watching them too. Maybe she wished it was her who’d had a baby, or perhaps she just liked looking at Jake and his six-pack. Either way, she wasn’t doing much talking.
Rob’s drunken tirade had put a dampener on the whole evening, and it irritated Darren, particularly after the day he’d had. The whole thing with Danni had been bad enough without the tears and tantrums over a few glasses of wine. He checked his phone for the tenth time in as many minutes; there was nothing but a single notification on Facebook. Being mildly interested, in case there was a bizarre connection to his girl, he clicked on it. Owen Mendez had left him a message.
Hey Darren. Looks like you’re in Mosswood Adventure Park! Cool! I’m coming up on Thursday! I’ve got permission to do some wildlife photography in the woods. How about we meet up?
Mendez was one of those oddballs who had just popped up from nowhere with a friend request and occasionally reacted to his posts with a like or an emoji. But that was about as far as it had gone. It would be pretty shitty to have said no, but he didn’t want to say yes either. What if Danni turned up? What if she wanted to spend the day with him? Darren shoved his phone back in his pocket. Maybe he’d reply on Thursday if the coast was clear.
Josie and Rob pulled up a couple of chairs and sat at the table. They both smiled uneasily.
“You heard anything yet?” Rob asked.
Darren shook his head as Jo pulled out her purse. “Anyone want a drink?”
It was a loaded question, he thought, considering what had gone on last night.
“Just a strong coffee,” Rob replied.
When Josie had gone, Rob leaned across and, in little more than a whisper said, “I’m really sorry about last night. Those things…I didn’t mean them.” He paused. “You said those woods were creepy, but tell me—honestly—did you feel anything?”
Darren wondered what this had to do with anything that had gone on in the evening but guessed there must be a link. “It was kind of strange. Why?”
“Is that all? Just strange?”
“Yeah.”
Rob sighed. “I remember going in there with you, but that’s it. So what happened?”
Darren recalled those times as a child when he’d insisted that his father read him scary stories by torchlight. It isn’t very good in the dark, dark wood in the middle of the night when there isn’t any light… He’d giggled and dived under the covers, imagining he was being pursued by a giant bear or worse still, the dreaded bogeyman.
But this wasn’t a kid’s story. “You said we needed to get out. You said there was something in there. But we did get out, so that’s okay, isn’t it?
Rob didn’t look convinced. He’d been acting kind of peculiar last night, and now he was asking odd questions.
Josie arrived back with the coffee and flashed Darren a fake smile as another message arrived on his phone. It was Owen Mendez again: Let me know, bud!
Darren groaned inwardly. He hated being pressurised. Why did the bastard want an immediate answer? He shoved the phone back in his pocket. All he’d wanted was a message from Danni. Was that too much to ask?
Chapter Twenty-One
Kevin Taylor looked at his voucher. “This is a print-off!”
Claudiu shrugged. “They won’t check. It’s just a ten-pound promo thing. They won’t be arsed.”
Taylor folded the paper and slipped it in his pocket. He’d still have to find a few quid and there was also the possibility that they would check. The vouchers had been supplied through a travel company as an enticement to book a family package holiday, but it was easy enough to download and copy if you knew what you were doing. The guys he lived with weren’t going to go to a whole lot of trouble just to save him a few pounds so he’d have to take it or leave it.
Pascoe had seen his message but hadn’t got back to him, so he’d sent another. If the backstabbing cunt wasn’t going to bite then it wasn’t worth going. Spending the day surrounded by screaming little brats wasn’t Taylor’s idea of fun. Not that he’d need that long with Pascoe. He just wanted to get him away from the crowds, somewhere quiet. Somewhere he wouldn’t be found. Holy shit, that bastard is gonna learn a lesson!
Taylor took a long drag on his joint and stared out of the window. Life wasn’t fair. Everyone was making money but him. His Romanian friends made pots of cash out of drugs and girls but they weren’t letting him in on any of it. A regular shag in exchange for a few beers—beers they could well afford to buy for themselves—well, that wasn’t exactly something to get excited about, even if he did quite like Velma.
Things would’ve been so different if it weren’t for Pascoe. Before the accident, Taylor was making a little bit of cash from the drugs ring on the Kirkland Estate, and if it hadn’t been for the stint in prison, he’d have been a major player by now.
Taylor opened the window and threw out the remainder of his reef. It smelled like cheap shit and he guessed it had been mixed with something. The guys were always doing things like that. They kept the good stuff for the clients, like they kept all the best girls. He’d asked for Mandy. She was Spanish, but pale as fuck, and looked about fifteen. She was everyone’s favourite, but they wouldn’t let him near her.
Taylor took his jacket from the back of the chair and headed for the door. The knife was still in his inside pocket and the sun was shining. People let their guard down in broad daylight anyway, but when the weather was good, they were even less careful. The park would be a good spot today. Girls lying on the grass bank by the lake with their phones beside them.
It was a short bus ride but he decided to walk. There might be a couple of opportunities on the way. It wasn’t long before Taylor spotted his first victim, standing in a queue for the cash machine at the shopping centre. An old woman with one of those straw bags. The stupid old biddy had her purse parked right at the top. He stood behind her for less than ten seconds before he reached forward and grabbed the purse. It was almost too easy. He waited a few seconds more and then moved off, quickening his pace, slipping down an alley where the shops kept their bins.
That’s when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Taylor spun around to find a burly-looking bloke, probably twice his age, bearing down on him.
“Give it back,” he hissed.
The man’s face was crimson with anger and, judging by the shape of his nose, he’d taken a good few punches in his time.
“Give me that fucking purse, you little scumbag!”
Taylor went to run, but the man grabbed his arm.
“I ain’t got no purse, Grandad, so get your fucking hands off me!”
“Bollocks! Hand it over, arsehole!”
Taylor saw another two-year stretch awaiting him like a cavernous black hole as he reached into his pocket and felt the blade handle between his fingers. He wasn’t going back there, not for some greasy do-gooder.
The bloke didn’t see it coming until it was too late. Taylor plunged the knife into his belly. “You asked for that,” he growled.
The man gasped, staggering forward, his eyes wide with horror. Taylor knew better than to run. That would only arouse suspicion and people usually looked to see what you were running from. He walked quickly and stopped at the end of the alleyway, looking back at the man lying amongst the litter by the bins, blood running over his fingers.
There was fifty pounds and thirty-six pence in the purse, plus house keys, but it wasn’t worth risking paying the old girl a visit. She’d not have anything worth robbing. Taylor shoved the cash in his pocket and threw the purse into a bin by the bus stop. It was easy money and if he played his cards right, it might get him an hour
with Mandy without anyone finding out. He quickened his pace. It wouldn’t be long before they found the guy he’d stabbed, so the further away he was, the better.
Alshaw Park hadn’t changed much since the day they’d picked up the four-wheel-drive just outside the gates. The day their friendship ended. The girls seemed to be covering up recently, and most of them had started wearing shorts, which meant he couldn’t catch a glimpse of their knickers. But it was still worth a visit, so he picked up a six-pack of strong cider from the off-licence and made his way to the main entrance, parking himself beneath a tree by the lake to plan exactly what he was going to do with Darren Pascoe.
***
Cody knew his parents were watching him as he sat, bent over his sketchpad. Not in a stand-and-stare kind of way—they just kept glancing over and then looking at each other the way mums and dads do when they think there’s something up.
“Hey, buddy, how about we go out on the bikes? Mum’s gonna come with us.”
“She hasn’t got a bike,” Cody grumbled.
“She can hire one.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Well, how about we go to the pool?”
“I just want to draw.”
Cody felt his mother’s presence at his left shoulder. “What’s up, Dee? You’re not still upset over Bailey, are you?”
“I don’t like her anymore. She’s really weird.”
“Why, have you seen her today?”
Cody didn’t answer. He’d felt cold when she was near him. And that voice… It was like an old woman’s voice. They wouldn’t understand. Something had happened to her in those woods. She’d wandered beyond the clearing, the place that Jacob Root told him he must never go alone. She’d followed a voice, thinking it was her mother, but it hadn’t been. Cody knew that.
“How about we go and get a burger, then?” his father said.
“I’m not hungry.”
