by Amy Cross
"I don't know an Adam". Shelley turns to Rob, who's dressed up in his usual moody teenage vampire outfit, all black and chains. "Do you know an Adam?" Shelley asks him.
"No," he says. "Are you sure he's real?"
Shelley elbows him in the ribs.
"Maybe he's a ghost," says Rob. "Or a vampire. I saw a vampire once. Just out of the corner of my eye. He was tall, maybe seven feet, with glowing red eyes and fangs like little knives. His skin was pale as the moon and when he spoke, he had this thick Eastern European accent, like... I am ze vampire and vill SUCK your blood!" He looks at Shelley and me, waiting for a reaction. "Okay, I'm exaggerating slightly, but I really did see a vampire. I nearly shit myself".
"Honey, can you get me another coffee?" Shelley asks him.
"Sure," he says, "I'll call the girl over".
"No," Shelley says. "Get it from the counter, yeah?" She plants a couple of notes in Rob's hand and he gets up, heading off on his mission. "So are you okay?" she asks me.
"Yeah," I say, drawing a pattern on the tablecloth with a spoon. "I'm fine".
"What happened to your lip?"
I smile falsely. "I banged it on a door".
"You walked into a door?"
"It does actually happen, you know?" I realise I'm being a little hard, so I try to tone it down. "That's why it's such a popular sob story, because some people actually do walk into doors".
Shelley clearly senses my irritability. She backs off. "Hope it doesn't hurt too much".
I shrug. "Could be worse," I say. That's certainly true.
Shelley nods. "So there's something I've been meaning to ask you. It's kinda awkward but do you not like Rob or something?"
"Rob?" I ask.
"Yeah. Like, do you have something against vampires?"
I laugh out loud, clearly offending Shelley a little. "Rob's not a vampire," I say. "He's just a guy with loads of black clothes".
"But he adopts the manner of a vampire," Shelley says. "He has that... cool vibe about him".
"You call that a cool vibe?" I ask as Rob comes back with Shelley's coffee.
"Cool vibe?" he asks. "Someone talking about me?"
"What did you want to see me about, anyway?" Shelley asks. "You mentioned something about reading a diary for you?"
I shake my head. "Never mind. It doesn't matter now".
"Seemed important on the phone".
"I don't have the diary any more. I... lost it".
"Well if you find it -"
"I'll let you know," I say. Something catches my eye out the window. I look at an old man walking slowly along the other side of the street. I recognise him from somewhere, but it takes me a moment to realise who he is. "Vincent..." I mutter.
"What?" asks Shelley.
I look at her, slightly panicked. "Got to go," I say, getting up. "Love you. Seeya". And I run out.
12
After I drop Jess off at her house, I decide to go into town. It's useless going home. I shall have to go to the library, then go home later and claim I left the house at the crack of dawn this morning in order to get an early start.
"Morning, sis," says a voice as I cross the road in front of the library. I turn to see my brother John has spotted me and run over. "Nice day," he says, walking with me now. "Off to the library?"
"Yes," I say, a little stiffly.
"Funny," he says. "I thought that's where you'd be. Except it's almost lunchtime. What've you been doing all morning?"
"Reading, of course," I say. "I just stepped out to get a breath of fresh air".
As I get to the steps leading into the library, John grabs my arm and turns me towards him. "You were out all night," he says.
"Nonsense!"
He shakes his head. "You were with him, weren't you?"
"You're making this up," I say, trying - and failing - to get loose from his grip.
"Listen, Rose, I love you, but if you start messing about I'm going to have to do something before it's too late".
"Like what?" I finally yank my arm away. "What are you going to do, John?" I realise I've raised my voice slightly, and passers-by are noticing. I lower my tone. "There's nothing to do anything about," I say. "I haven't even seen Patrick for days".
"So who were you out with?"
"I went to see Jess," I say, which is kind of true. "And it got so late, I decided to stay in her family's spare room. Would you have rather I'd walked home alone at all hours of the morning?"
He stares at me. "I don't believe you".
"Fine," I say. "Don't believe me. It doesn't really affect me one way or the other".
I turn up walk up the steps.
"That girl Jess, she's bad enough," John calls after me. "I've heard rumours about her too!"
I run into the library, and he doesn't follow. I finally relax, and I start walking into the main hall. While I'm here, I might as well go and do some actual college work. But first, I decide to head over to the local history section, thinking to take a look and see what I can find about the lighthouse. The only problem is, when I get there, I find half the books are missing. It's almost as if someone wants to make sure the past doesn't get uncovered.
13
I don't immediately call out to Vincent. Instead, I loiter behind him as he walks. I want to see what he's doing, where he's going. After all, this is Patrick's father we're talking about here, a man with more than a few mysteries about him. And since meeting him in the cave below town, I'd kind of assumed that Vincent never came up to the 'real' world. So it's a little surprising to see him here now, looking like any other old guy, with a handful of regular brand plastic bags in his hand.
After a few minutes, he turns down a secluded little street and I follow him for a few more metres before deciding enough's enough. "Vincent," I say out loud.
I'd kind of assumed that Vincent had some supernatural ability to detect me. But no. He turns suddenly, clearly shocked, and he seems to relax when he sees it's me.
"What are you doing here?" he asks.
"Living my life," I say. "What about you?"
He holds up the plastic bags so I can see them. "Shopping. Now I'm on my way home. Do you want to walk with me?"
Without waiting for an answer, he turns and starts walking. I hurry to catch up. "It's Patrick," I say.
He laughs. "Of course it is".
"Things have been weird recently. It's like... It's like he hates me".
"He doesn't hate you," Vincent says.
"I think he tried to kill me".
Vincent stops and turns to face me. He looks serious now. "Please listen to me. There is no way Patrick would ever try to hurt you. Quite the opposite. He's trying to protect you".
"From what?" I ask. "I don't need protecting. Am I supposed to be protecting him too? What about the lighthouse? Where was he then?"
"What lighthouse?"
"The lighthouse where the lantern fell down and almost killed me. Patrick didn't save me, Adam did".
Vincent seems concerned now. "Who's Adam?"
"Never mind," I say, momentarily losing momentum. "The point is, look at my lip. See the swelling? That was Patrick. He did that to me. So do you still think he's trying to protect me?"
Vincent seems shocked. "Patrick would never hurt you".
"He almost broke my arm," I say. "Just because I wouldn't give him the diary".
"What diary?"
"Rose Tisser's diary".
All the colour seems to drain from Vincent's face. "Where did you get that?"
"It doesn't matter. Patrick has it now. He damn near killed me to get it back".
"You must leave it alone," Vincent says. "Listen to me very carefully. You must leave that alone. Never think of it again, never ask about it, never do anything about it. It's in the past. Neither Patrick or I will let you rake it up again".
They won't 'let' me? "You can't tell me what to do," I say. "I like you, Vincent, and I'm grateful to you for all you've done for me, but you can't order me about".<
br />
"I'm just telling you what's best for your safety," Vincent says. "Please believe me. I can't tell you why, but please stop asking about this. It's the one thing that could -"
He stops.
"The one thing that could what?" I ask.
No reply.
"The one thing that could what?" I ask again.
"Patrick would die to protect you," Vincent says. "He would kill anyone who hurts you. But if you start digging around in things that don't matter any more, you'll dig up painful memories. And then he -"
Again, he stops short.
"If you don't tell me about Rose Tisser and Jess Harper," I say. "I'll find out some other way".
Vincent stares at me for a moment. "I have to continue walking alone now," he says. "But please take my advice. Forget about all of this. Patrick would never hurt you, but if you push him..."
"If I push him what?"
I can tell Vincent isn't sure whether to say the next thing. "Everyone gets angry sometimes," he says eventually. "And when they do, sometimes things happen that should never happen".
With that, he turns and starts walking away. I can tell there's no point following him, so I turn and start walking back to the town centre. I like Vincent. I trust him and I think he has my best interests, and Patrick's, at heart. But I'm not going to listen to him. I'm going to find out the truth about Rose Tisser and Jess Harper if it's the last thing I do - which, it sounds like it might be.
14
Later that afternoon, I'm sitting in my bedroom writing up an entry in my diary, when I hear a familiar scratching sound on the window. I leap up and undo the latch, letting Patrick in. As usual, he says nothing and simply seems to have come so he can observe me. Nevertheless, I do something I've never done before: I take the initiative, lean up and give him a peck on the cheek. He doesn't really react.
"Something unusual happened last night," I say, going back to my bed and closing up my diary. "Did you call on me? I wasn't here. I was out with Jess. Can you guess where we went?"
He watches carefully as I put my diary away.
"We went out to that old lighthouse," I say. "This was late at night, almost midnight. Jess wanted to find out about the lights people see out there, and..." I stop for a moment, suddenly wondering if I should be telling Patrick about this. "Well, it got a little peculiar..."
Patrick and I both turn as someone knocks on my bedroom door.
"Relax," calls a voice from the other side. "It's me!"
I go and open the door, and Jess walks in.
"Hi," she says to Patrick. "Why am I not surprised to see you here? Got anything to say this time, or are you just gonna stand around looking all moody and manly?"
Typically, Patrick doesn't answer.
"Moody and manly it is, then," Jess says, turning to me. "Rose, dear, we have to go back out to the lighthouse".
I catch a concerned expression on Patrick's face.
"Jess, I'm not sure," I say. "It was all very well having an adventure last night, but I'd quite like to sleep in my own bed tonight. And it's going to be very cold again".
"I lost my ring," Jess says. "Remember the ring my granny gave me? It must have fallen off when we were there, and I do so want to get it back. You wouldn't make me go alone, would you?" She smiles at Patrick. "You can come too, if you want".
I sigh. I can already tell I'm going to give in and go with her, but I'd like to at least pretend to put up a fight first. "We have to be back by dinnertime," I say. "That's two hours maximum, do you understand?"
"Yeah," says Jess, nodding. "Or, you know, you can stay here and Mr. Silent can escort me instead. Although I can't promise we won't get up to something bad".
"I'm coming," I say, grabbing an extra sweater. "But two hours. Maximum".
15
I hate funerals. Not that I've ever been to one before, but I've seen loads of them on TV and I hate the idea of them. Putting someone in the ground forever, so they can rot in the dark, seems like a pretty cynical way to get rid of the dead to me. I swear, when I die I just want to be left out behind a rock somewhere in the wild. Whatever wants to eat me, can eat me. A funeral is the last thing I'd ever want. But I came here because of Adam, because John Tisser was his grandfather and if I were Adam's girlfriend - which I'm not, but I could be soon - I'd have to be there with him.
It's mostly old people at the funeral. Adam and I are clearly the youngest people there. The only person I recognise is John's widow, who - surprise, surprise - gives me a look of pure hatred. I know she blames me for her husband's death. She thinks he'd still be alive if I hadn't turned up and asked awkward questions. And now I'm here holding her grandson's hand. Yeah, she loves me.
"This'll be over soon," Adam whispers to me as we sit waiting for the ceremony to begin. "We can go and hang out somewhere afterwards if you like".
"Yeah," I say. To be honest, I kind of feel like being alone, but I feel like Adam needs some company right now, so I'll probably spend the rest of the day with him.
When the ceremony starts, it's very functional and bare, and quite moving. Turns out John Tisser was a Protestant, so there's not much flash on evidence today. The whole thing seems so bleak, it's almost Swedish, like something from a Bergman film. But about halfway through, I get the distinct impression that something has changed. The tone, the atmosphere are different. At first I can't work out what it is, but finally I realise that I do understand, I just don't want to admit it.
I casually glance over my shoulder and there he is. At the back of the church, Patrick is sitting alone and staring straight ahead at the coffin. He hasn't seen me, but I can't help looking at his face and wondering why he's here. Guilt? Did he scare John Tisser to death and, if he did, did he do it on purpose? Or is he here to gloat. I stare at him, and suddenly I realise that he's just staring at the coffin. And then I spot just a flicker in his eye, and I realise he does know I'm here. He's deliberately avoiding eye contact with me!
I turn back to look at the front of the church. John Tisser's coffin has an open casket, but I've managed to avoid going up to look inside. I've never seen a dead body, not like this anyway, and I'm not sure this is the right time to get curious.
***
After the funeral, I excuse myself from Adam for a moment and go to find Patrick. But he's nowhere to be found. Either he didn't stay until the end, or he slipped away so quickly I didn't have time to catch up with him. I go around the cemetery, just in case he's hiding somewhere, but he's really gone. Nice of him to bother stopping, but then again, why would he bother? It's not like we could have a chat, is it?
"Sophie!" calls Adam.
I turn and see he's walking over to me with an old man.
"Sophie, this is Henry," Adam says. "Adam, this is Sophie, the girl I was telling you about".
Henry, who looks to be well into his 90s, nods at me. He's leaning a little on a walking stick, and seems out of breath from the short walk. We go and sit on a small bench by the cemetery wall.
"I told Henry that you were interested in Jess Harper and Rose," Adam says. "Henry knew them".
"I knew them very well," Henry says. His jaw constantly shakes, and he rarely looks directly at either of us, preferring to stare at the grass by the bench. "I knew them very well," he says again.
"I'm sorry they died," I say.
He nods.
"Do you know what they were doing up at the lighthouse, the day they died?" I ask.
"They were there to meet a man," Henry says. "A nice man. I knew him too".
I pause for a moment. I'm not sure I really want to ask the next question, because either way it's going to change how I see things. "Do you know his name?"
Henry nods. "Patrick".
My heart leaps up, does a little pirouette, then lands back in its cavity. "And this was 1959?" I ask.
Henry nods.
"What was he like?" I ask.
Adam interrupts. "Do you think he killed them?"
"He seemed nice," Henr
y says. "Very quiet. Never said a word. Just seemed to be there with the girls sometimes. Just following them around. They liked him. Handsome chap".
Adam looks at me for a moment. "Did you see him again after the night Jess and Rose went to the lighthouse?" he asks Henry, who shakes his head. "Didn't you tell the police about this Patrick guy?" Adam says.
"They knew," Henry says. "He was nowhere to be found. No-one knew who he was".
"Henry," I say, "do you think Patrick killed Jess and Rose?"
Henry shakes his head. "I don't know," he says. He pauses. "Maybe he killed Jessica. Maybe. Awful what happened to her. I saw the photos of the crime scene. So much blood". He makes proper eye contact with me for the first time. "Bones ripped from the flesh".
"But Rose's body wasn't there?"
Adam interrupts again. "Her blood was, though, wasn't it?"
Henry nods. "Young man, would you be so kind as to leave me alone with this young lady for a few minutes? I promise I won't molest her".
Adam nods, though he seems a little annoyed. "I'll go and check on my grandmother," he says before walking away.
"Did you look at John Tisser's body today?" Henry asks.
"No," I say. "I don't really like dead bodies much".
"That man had a terrible burden," Henry says. "Now there's no-one else to carry the burden, I don't know what will happen".
"Maybe it'll just... stop?" I ask.
"Soon, maybe," says Henry. "But for now, I don't know about the arrangements".
We sit in silence for a moment. "Why did you want to talk to me alone?" I ask.
Henry reaches into his jacket pocked and pulls out a slip of paper, on which the name Janet Smith has been written in scratchy handwriting. He hands the paper to me, and looks at me earnestly.
"Who's Janet Smith?" I ask.
"Janet Smith is a woman who has been at St Winifred's Nursing Home for half a century," says Henry. "No-one visits her. Well, not any more. Not now that John's dead". He sighs. "Don't feel too sorry for her. She doesn't know if anyone's there or not".
