Rain In My Heart

by Kara Karnatzki

  ‘For real?’said Leon. ‘You’re not making this up?’

  ‘Why would he make it up?’I said.

  ‘Rubbish!’said Greg.‘He’s just trying to turn things round, make everyone feel sorry for him. I don’t buy it.’

  Byron let out another groan.

  ‘My knee,’he whimpered. ‘Please help me.’

  I wavered. I wanted to believe Byron, but the idea seemed too absurd. Perhaps Greg and Gemma were right, perhaps it was all just a play to get our sympathy. We’d been warned about hazards and sharp objects in the water. Anything could have caused the cut, a table edge or a broken picture frame or something. Unless....

  I shivered, felt the adrenalin kick through my arms and legs.

  ‘There’s only one way to settle this,’said Leon. ‘Someone has to go down to the stairwell and see if he’s making it up or not.’

  ‘No!’I said, alarmed. ‘You can’t. What if it’s true? Oh, god!’

  I began to tremble all over. The fear was overwhelming.

  ‘I wouldn’t,’said Byron. ‘Not if you value your lives.’

  But it was too late.

  Leon, Curtis, Gemma and Greg jumped to their feet and started marching towards the door.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  I’d like to think that if a person were injured, whether they weregood or bad, I’d try to help. That’s humanity, isn’t it? If my worst enemy got hit by a car, I’d cry for them. If my horrible Aunt Jessica, who’d been mean to my mum for years, broke her leg in a skiing accident, I’d visit her in hospital. And if I ever heard that Marshall Finch was trapped in a house fire, I’d be sick with worry. I’d want him to be okay. But maybe that’s just me.

  Anyway, while the others went to investigate, I stayed with Byron. I cleaned his wound as best as I could, using a pack of sterile wipes I’d found in Miss Nevis’s desk drawer, then I attempted to make a bandage out of hessian strips. I tried not to look too horrified as I tightened it around the cut. My hands were shaking so much I could barely tie the knot. I didn’t want to scare him, but the truth was, his knee was slashed from side to side–the sort of thing you see on those accident and emergency hospital documentaries. It looked agonising. Even so, he smiled at me, like he was grateful I was paying him some attention.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting a pity party,’he said.‘But the looks on their faces - I’m loathed, aren’t I?’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about it,’I said vaguely.‘Try not to move your leg. It’ll make the bleeding worse.’

  ‘You’d make a good doctor, Kate.’

  ‘Thanks, but I think I’ll stick with graphic design.’

  ‘Shame.’

  I helped him to sit.

  ‘I’ve got no idea how I managed to make it up the steps.’

  ‘You’ll be okay.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right. Although it’s never wise to expose an open wound to the toxicity of rat-infested floodwater. Next stop: gangrene.’

  He looked over the lower half of his body, gave a shrug.

  ‘I guess that’s pretty much it for my left leg. Oh well. Perhaps I could replace it with a robotic one. I’ve always been fascinated by bionic science.’

  I couldn’t believe he was being so casual about it. Perhaps he was delirious. Suddenly there was a noise from the stairwell. The others were returning.

  ‘I hope they're okay,’I whispered.‘I mean, aren't you scared? Do you think there really was something down there?’

  ‘Who knows,Kate,’ he said, with a strange smile. ‘Fearis so powerful isn’t it? Arguably the most powerful emotion in the world. People do all sorts of crazy things in its name. It’s why dictators love it. It gives them such control.’

  Before I could get him to explain what he meant by this, Gemma swooped in.

  ‘Just as we suspected,’ shegrowled. ‘Nothing!’

  ‘Youwere talking bollocks!’said Curtis, waggling a finger at Byron.

  ‘Did you actually check inthe water?’asked Byron.

  ‘No!’

  ‘Well, that’s where it was, beneath the surface. Like I said, I didn’t see it, I just felt it.’

  ‘Whatever,’said Gemma. ‘The fact of the matter is we don’t trust you, Byron. And we have good reason not to.’

  They all stood over him, arms folded, like some kind of mafia.

  ‘Go and get his phone,’Gemma ordered, nodding at Greg. ‘I’ll show everyone what we know about you, Ryanor Byron, or whatever you’re name is. I’ll show you what a creep and a freak you are, taking pictures of us all, making notes, following us around…where’s that phone?’

  We could hear Greg stumbling about in the dark.

  ‘PHONE!’shouted Gemma. ‘Get it now!’

  Greg mumbled something.

  ‘I can’t,’he called.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The phone, I can’t find it.’

  ‘I left it on the table,’said Gemma impatiently. ‘Where the others are.’

  ‘I mean, I can’t find anyof them. They’ve gone. They’re not there. Someone’s taken them.’

  ‘You must have knocked them off. They were there a minute ago. We were looking at them.’

  ‘Well, they’re not there now!’

  ‘Someone’s moved them, then? Who’s moved them?’

  Gemma glanced at me, then Leon, then Curtis. We shrugged and shook our heads.

  Then we all turned to Byron.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  ‘Think what you like,’said Byron, spitting the words. ‘I haven’t touched the phones.’

  His neutral cool had been replaced by anger. He gave Gemma dagger eyes. She gave them back to him.

  ‘Where. Are. The. Phones?’she demanded.

  He tried mirroring the little shrug/head shakethat everyone else gave when the same question was addressed to them. It didn’t work.

  ‘Don’t act like you don’t know,’said Greg.

  ‘But I don’t,’he insisted.

  Personally, I believed him. He could barely stand and,from the moment he’d come back into the room, I’d been by his side. He hadn’t been near the table where the phones were kept.

  ‘C’mon, mate,’said Leon, with a decent-guy voice that didn’t quite cover his true anger. ‘Do the right thing. Give them back. We know you’ve been messing about with them.'

  'I don't think he has,' I said.

  Gemma glared at me like I was betraying her.

  ‘Where’s your loyalty?’she snarled.

  Then to Byron.

  ‘And where are our phones?’

  ‘I’ve told you, I don’t havethem.’

  He wriggled with anger. His bandage slipped. I tried to still him.

  ‘Careful,’I said. ‘Watch out for your knee.’

  ‘Screw his knee!’said Curtis. ‘We want our phones!’

  ‘You know what I think?’said Gemma. ‘I think he’s trying to hide the evidence. But it’s too late. We’ve already seen it.’

  ‘Seen what?’said Bryon.

  ‘The stalker files, that’s what,’said Gemma.‘Me and Kate, we went through everything.’

  ‘You looked through my phone?’said Byron, directly to me, as if no one else was in the room. He sounded hurt.

  Embarrassed, I hid beneath my hair.

  ‘Yes - I - Gemma showed me -’

  ‘It’s not what it looks like,’he said, shaking his head. ‘Whatever she says, it’s not what it -’

  I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure. In that moment, I didn’t know what to believe.

  ‘Please, Kate,’he continued. ‘Don’t listen to them.’

  His eyes were stark, pleading, like he was desperate for me to understand.

  Gemma tugged my arm.

  ‘Enough of the love-in,’she hissed.

  The next few moments happened in a flash, a firecracker taking off. Gemma tried to lead me away, butas she did, Byron grabbed my hand and yanked me back. I don’t think he meant in a bad way. He was just trying to make me see his point, but I
guess it looked a bit ferocious. Everyone jumped on him.

  ‘Get your hands off her!’ shouted Greg.

  ‘Touch Kate again and I’ll get my dad onto you,’said Gemma, eyes narrowing.

  ‘Your dad?’said Byron sulkily. ‘The seedy little man who got caught running away from a chip shop with his trousers round his ankles? I don’t think so.’

  There was a unified gasp. I mean, it’s an unspoken code, isn’t it–never criticise someone’s parents, especially not in public, especially not in the middle of their messy d.i.v.o.r.c.e. Even Icould see that Byron had over-stepped the mark this time. Gemma exploded, started shouting, screaming, telling Greg to get Byron away from her. But Byron didn’t care.

  ‘Only pointing out the obvious,’he said.

  ‘Just give us back our phones, you prick!’said Greg, squaring up to him.‘Then leave us alone!’

  ‘Please,’said Byron.‘What’s so hard for you to comprehend? I. Do. Not. Have. Them. Show some intelligence, I beg you.’

  ‘Don’t get rude!’said Curtis, thumping his fist on the table. ‘OrI’ll have you, I swear! You’ll be toast!'

  ‘Is this another threat?’said Byron.‘I told you, Kate, didn’t I? Curtis has a sinister side - well, not that sinister, if itinvolves breakfast food.’

  His eyes were wired and bulgy, like he was losing his mind. His mouth was a leer.

  ‘To be honest, it’s Greg I’m worried about,’ he continued. ‘All that latent dead-mother anger…’ –Greg looked up– ‘That sort of thing makes a person unpredictable. I mean, no matter how much he clings to Gemma Dyce, let's face it, she’s no replacement mother figure. And anger needs an outlet, doesn’t it? No good burying it, because it finds its way to the surface eventually. Like a volcano.’

  Gemma launched at him. The boys pulled her off. Greg, meanwhile, bit his lip and kicked the table. It slammed across the room, silencing everyone. Byron struggled into a sitting position.

  ‘If I’m going to be a target,’he said, laughing,‘I might as well be a sitting one - ha ha!’

  Then he leaned towards me. He was still grinning, but I could tell, inside, he was spiralling.

  ‘While I’m prepared to take responsibility for some of the bad things I havedone,’he said. ‘I’m not going to take the blame for other people’s mischief. I mean, it isn’t my fault that someone has decided to become a phantom phone hider. One of you isn’t being entirely honest, but who?’

  I just stood there, bewildered, not sure where to go or what to do.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  We forgot to check the candles. In the middle of the drama, we were plunged into darkness.

  ‘Crap!’

  ‘The wicks! We didn’t keep an eye on them! They must’ve burnt themselves out!’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘Ow!’

  ‘Careful!’

  Our voices sailed through the black. I stepped forward, heard a yelp. I’d stood on someone's hand.

  ‘Sorry,’I whispered.

  CRASH THUD CRASH

  Suddenly the dark was filled by the sound of clattering easels, several at once, falling to the floor.

  ‘Is everyone okay?’

  As my eyes adjusted I could see the outlines of the windows, the silver glow of the clouds.

  ‘Where are the spare candles?’I said. ‘I’ve got the lighter in my pocket. Someone help me find the candles -’

  ‘On the table,’said Leon.

  I fumbled across the chairs, skimmed the tabletop with my hands, searched for the tin. Nothing there.

  ‘The tin’s gone, too,' I gasped. ‘The tin with the candles in, it was next to the phones - and now it’s gone!’

  I heard something drop and roll. One of the candles fell off a chair and rolled along the floor. I knelt and grabbed it.

  ‘Wait! Found one!’I shouted.

  I took the lighter from my pocket, flicked my thumb across the flint, ignited the wick. Everyone cheered–even Byron. Leon came behind me as I held the candle upwards.

  ‘Clever, Kate,’he whispered, feeding his arms around my waist.

  ‘Not much burning time,’I said cautiously.

  ‘As long as it lasts long enough for us to find a way out of here,’he said. 'And this time, I'm not taking no for an answer.'

  He kissed the back of my head. I have to admit it felt good, a moment of affectionwithin all the stress. But it didn't last long. We couldn’t ignore the fact that the tin and the rest of the candles had disappeared, along with our phones. We couldn’t forget that moments’before, we’d all been arguing, slinging accusations and threats, judging and blaming. Then I noticed something else. As I set the new-found candle on the table next to the previous one, I realised the previous one still had half it's wax left, a good two hours worth.

  It hadn’t burnt out at all.

  It had been blown out.

  Someone or something had blown it out.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Byron again. A moment’s reprieve, then back to Byron.

  ‘You?’said Greg. ‘Did youblow the candles out? Is this your idea of a joke?’

  ‘C’mon, mate,’said Leon. ‘Like, why d’you do that?’

  Byron rolled his eyes.

  ‘Is there any point even trying to deny it?’he said.‘Or am I going to be blamed for everything?’

  ‘Sounds like a reasonable idea to me,’said Curtis. ‘I don’t see anyone else being such a prize nob -’

  He and Byron locked eyes.

  ‘Please,’I begged. ‘Can’t we try and get on, for the sake of everyone's sanity? Besides, Byron wasn’t anywhere near the candles. Maybe there’s a draft somewhere?’

  As I spoke, I could feel the drag in my voice. I was starting to grow weary - and wary- of fighting Byron’s corner, especially since he was doing so little to help himself.

  ‘I didn’t feel a draft,’said Curtis. ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  ‘Come on,’said Leon, pulling Curtis away. ‘There’s no point arguing with crazy. We need to sort this rope out. Less talk, more do.'

  He picked up a box of fabric. Greg and Curtis helped him. Byron went back to the shadows. Clearly, it pained him to stand, but he managed, using a table for support. He hobbled towards the radiator at the back. With everyone occupied, I was grateful for a moment’s peace. It wasn’t long, however, before I noticed Leon sneak overto Byron. I guess he thought no one was watching. He didn’t realise I was in earshot, just behind the fallen easels. He closed in, pinned Byron to the wall with is body mass.

  ‘Itell you now, lurk boy, I’m not happy about these photos. It’s a breach of my privacy.’

  Byron shook his head.

  ‘You’re so narcissistic,’he said.

  ‘You what?’

  ‘Narcissistic. It means vain. But I know what your issue is, Leon. You’re not concerned about a breach of your privacy. You’re not a private person. You like to be top dog. You’re out there. The reason you’re worried about the photos is because you’re scaredthere’s evidenceof you cheating. All those poor, gullible girls -’

  ‘What are you now, a mind reader? You wait till we get out of here.’

  ‘Why? Because you’re going to - what was it Curtis said - make me toast?’

  ‘I’m warning you,’said Leon, beefing up his shoulders, leaning forward. 'Mess with me and you'll regret it. My brother’s about to join the police. He could have you arrested for harassment.’

  ‘But I haven’t harassed anyone,’said Byron.‘Quite the opposite. I’ve kept my distance, stayed in the background.’

  ‘He could pin anything on you. He knows how to work the system -’

  ‘Sounds like a friendly, reliable kind of cop,' said Byron. 'Oh, yes, I know your brother. Isn't he the one who punctured your lung?'

  Leon stopped, stepped backward.

  'That’s none of your business,' he said, clearly flustered.

  Byron shrugged.
<
br />   ‘If you say so. But big brother or not, I’m afraid you can’t pin anythingon me. You don’t have my phone, remember. Nophone. No photos. No evidence.’

  ‘Yeah, you’ve made sure of that, haven’t you?’Leon replied. ‘But Gemma will back me up. She’ll be a witness. She’ll tell the police what they need to know. Isn’t that right, Gem?’

  He turned and looked for Gemma’s support, but she wasn’t there.

  ‘Gem?’

  He called again.

  ‘Shame. Iguess she’s not interested,’said Byron.

  ‘Gemma?’

  Leon called across the room, but no reply came. He called again, then he powered into the dark. He searched behind the easels, the pottery wheel, then the store cupboard. Eventually, he came to me.

  ‘Kate, you seen Gemma? Where’s she gone?’

  ‘She was here a minute ago,’I replied, trying to mask the fact that I’d been listening into his‘chat’with Byron. He then went to Greg.

  ‘Where’s Gemma?’he said.

  Greg glanced about.

  ‘She was with me.’

  He paused.

  The silence bulged.

  ‘She was standing right next to me...she was right here…just here…before the candles went out.’

  PART THREE–Heroics

  Chapter Thirty

  ‘Gemma?’

  ‘GEM?’

  We each took a corner and searched the room. It was a big space, lots of hidden areas and obstacles. The dark added to the confusion. I was worried she’d fallen, maybe hit her head on something, knocked herself out. I looked under every table, every chair. Curtis checked the store cupboard again. Greg checked the sinks. Byron leaned up against a bookshelf, casually pickedfluff from his jumper - as though Gemma’s absence was a matter of curiosity to him, rather than a worry. He made an unhelpful remark about how she may have encountered the thing that cut his knee.

  ‘Leave it out, Byro,’said Leon. ‘This isn’t the time for your warped sense of reality.'

  Greg rose up.

  'I’m going to check the stairwell.’

  'Be careful,' I said, on impulse.

  Leon and I followed him. We stood at the stop and held the candle so he could see.