Eventually he got out.
He was quick to let himself inside his home. Like he’d suspected, Tom was still away. The bungalow was so small, it took no time to check every room. He was alone. As soon as he figured he was hopefully safe, exhaustion fell back upon him.
Even in his fatigue, he ensured everything was closed and locked. He considered propping a chair against the doors to help withstand a break-in. But doing that would make it harder for Nick to escape if Austin found another way inside.
A break-in. He remembered Austin had already gotten in somehow, and had stolen his diary. My Diary of Depression, toyed his tired and shocked mind. Going back over everything, he searched for signs of forced entry. He found no damage to the doors or windows, and he was certain nothing had been unlocked.
It left just one frightening possibility: Austin had a key.
But how? There were only two keys to the house. Nick’s, which he had on his set and kept with him at all times. Stupidly, he checked for it now, even though he’d just let himself in with it. And then there was Tom’s. But Tom had been at Michael’s house for a few days.
With a glance up at the kitchen clock, he decided it wasn’t too late to call his brother. ‘Hi, Tom.’
‘Nick? Are you alright?’
Well, that’s a question, isn’t it? ‘Yeah … Nothing to worry about,’ he forced out, flagging. ‘I’m just calling because I think someone has rummaged through my room. Some things were not how I left them, but nobody seems to have broken in or anything. And nothing’s been taken.’ Except my diary.
‘Oh, right,’ said Tom, sounding incapable of adding to the conversation. He talked really low for some reason.
‘I’m not saying you have been through my room or anything. It’s just, if someone has been in the house, they must have used a key. Have you got yours on you?’
‘I should have. Let me have a look quickly.’ The phone was quiet for a while except for shuffling and scuffling. ‘Oh,’ his voice returned, ‘that’s weird. It’s not with my other keys.’
‘Do you know where it is?’
‘I didn’t even notice it was missing. I haven’t had to use it for a few days.’
Nick inhaled tensely through his nose, held the breath tight in his chest, and then pushed it out. ‘Do you remember where you last saw it, or when you last used it?’
‘Erm … The first place I went after leaving your house was Dad’s, before going to Michael’s. That was when I went to see if Tommy would to talk to me.’
‘You wouldn’t have left it there, would you?’
‘Sorry, Nick. I’m trying to talk quietly because Michael’s parents are asleep.’ He wasn’t far from whispering. ‘You know what I’m like; I empty my pockets when I’m about a house.’ That’s true, thought Nick. Tom’s usual routine when coming home would be to walk to the kitchen, take out his keys and phone and wallet, and dump them on the side. Nick was the same, especially when wearing skinnies. ‘I would have put my keys on that little table Dad has near the front door.’
‘So do you think it fell off and you left it there?’
‘Maybe. But I doubt it fell off. It would have been on a keychain loop thingymabob, whatever you call it. I’m looking at the empty loop now.’
Nick didn’t want his brother becoming suspicious. ‘Maybe it wore down and fell off.’
‘You didn’t have the key made for me that long ago.’
‘Maybe when it was still in your pocket it moved about and started to come off the hoop …’ A spell of dizziness threatened to drop Nick to the kitchen floor. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter how it fell off. If you think it’s at Dad’s, then I’ll go over and see if he or Tommy have seen it. I need to talk to Tommy anyway.’
‘Okay. But, Nick?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I’m worried now. Why would someone go through your room? Should we get the locks changed?’
If Nick hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have tried to find a way to ask Tom about the key without causing concern. He had to come up with an excuse. ‘I wouldn’t worry. I’m not sure anyone’s even been in the house. I think I probably just left things differently from how I usually do. I’ve not been thinking properly, you know, because of ...’ He let Tom figure out the rest, feeling guilty for using Kerra’s abduction as an excuse. Dead, trapped in her body, dead, tormented, dead. He considered punching himself to make the thoughts stop.
‘Michael and I can come over if you want to have people about the house,’ offered Tom, but his tone suggested it would be an inconvenience.
‘No, no, no, don’t worry. I might call Fin and see what he’s doing.’
‘Okay. So are you going to Dad’s tomorrow then, to look for my key?’
‘Yeah.’ Then he remembered he had work. He compressed his lips and closed his eyes before relaxing them and saying, ‘I’ll go after work.’
‘I can go myself if you want.’ Again, Tom made it sound like a hassle.
‘No. I’ll go. I want stuff to do anyway, while I wait for the police to get back to me.’ As soon as he’d said it, he thought, I don’t want this. I don’t want to keep lying to everyone. Different lies for different people. It won’t be long before I trip myself up.
‘Thank you, Nick. I would go, but Michael and I have planned a day out tomorrow and a meal in the evening.’
Struggling to muster the energy, Nick asked, ‘Anywhere nice?’
‘Just going up to the hills for a walk, and then to Chanton for a quick nose around the shops; they’ve got some cool little shops in that town. Then we might go to Eradon Lake as well. Maybe not in that order, but those are our destinations. We haven’t decided on our meal yet. I like simple pleasures, and just fancy going down to the docks for fish and chips. I need to persuade Michael, though.’ He laughed, probably too loudly. ‘Nick? You wouldn’t think Michael was a snob about food, would you? Well, he is.’
Nick heard his colleague’s dopey rumble in the background. Surely Michael’s voice will wake his parents.
Tom said, ‘He reckons it’s to keep fit.’ He laughed again. ‘And he says hi, by the way.’
‘Hi, Michael,’ said Nick, desperate to get off the phone. He listened to his brother parrot him for Michael’s sake. ‘Anyway, I’ve got to get some sleep now.’
‘Okay. Sorry about the key. Thanks in advance for going to Dad’s tomorrow.’
After the phone call, Nick made toast (surprisingly, he didn’t fall asleep and set the house on fire) and forced it down to get something in his stomach. How am I supposed to sleep tonight, knowing Austin can let himself in anytime? Asking the question summoned the answer. He had a lock on his bedroom door, which he’d installed for his and Kerra’s privacy, since Tom had moved in. Kerra …
He managed to shower and brush his teeth before making his way to bed. He put the note Tamara had given him, the scribbles the witch had channelled for his mother’s spirit, in the drawer that had held his diary. Hopefully no one would steal it.
As he lay awake, his mind played cruel games with him, singing, dead-dead-dead-diddily-dead-dead-dead!, and making bitter and semi-amusing comments like, Oh, elves actually exist? Sorry, James! I didn’t realise I was in The Lord of the Rings!
Nick understood what his brain was doing; he was so knackered, he couldn’t possibly face his emotions, and so his mind was trying to bottle them up by making light of everything. But it wasn’t funny. The wry thoughts tormented him, right up until he thought of Kerra’s family …
She had been a middle child, in between three older sisters, Rose, Melanie, and Jenifer, and three younger brothers, Connor, Jack, and George. When Kerra’s father, David, had come into Creaky Crystals and accosted Nick, Connor was the one who accompanied him. The only other immediate family was Kerra’s mother, Karen. For ages, all Nick could think about were their reactions to discovering Kerra was dead. He kept seeing himself at their dinner table, which had always been a loud and lively affair, and he imagined how different it would
be without Kerra. Although each member of her family always seemed busy in their own lives, when they were all together there was a great dynamic. It wouldn’t be the same again.
Nick wasn’t sure what painful thought he had fallen asleep to, but somehow he woke up alive the next day. The door hadn’t been bashed down, and his throat was intact. He was unexpectedly alert, knowing instantly what he had to do. The top thing on his list was to make sense of everything. How could he move forward if he didn’t understand the position he was in?
Kerra was dead, and there was nothing he could do about that. She wasn’t gone, though, and there was something he could do about that. Even this morning, he could not cry for her. Maybe because he knew her spirit remained trapped. But also because overcoming depression had given him a backbone, an assurance that he would never fall into that condition again. Grief was different from depression, of course, but to some extent Nick had grieved already. Considering the limbo state of things, he decided it would just be indulgent wallowing to sit about and weep for her now.
He had a goal: to find Austin.
When James had told him the night before to do nothing but wait, Nick almost continued protesting. But then he realised if he agreed with the plan, the half-elf would be off seeking guidance from his kind … meaning he wouldn’t be watching over Nick. Meaning I can track down Austin.
Unfortunately it was Friday, which equalled work. He considered calling Mora and asking for the day off, sure she would understand and say yes, but he thought it indecent to cash in on his manager’s generosity. He couldn’t keep using Kerra’s misfortune to his benefit.
When he made it to Creaky Crystals, he discovered Mora couldn’t have granted him the shift off anyway. Janet was off and so was Michael, of course, leaving only Mora, Lucy, and him. A team of three wasn’t terrible, but not ideal either, as Fridays were generally busy. Nick dealt with a steady flow of customers, passing the day along nicely.
In his untalkative mood, he most likely came across miserable or rude. He didn’t care. Everything seemed trivial today, like a customer complaining about a bit of dust on a shelf. Really?! You felt so affronted by DUST that you had to walk up to the counter and put in a complaint? Do you have nothing better to do?! The woman’s complaint was valid; the shelf was dirty. But it must have been the one area in the entire store they’d forgotten to clean that morning.
In the afternoon there was a quiet period when Nick had the chance to dawdle about. He got around to the abhorrently filthy shelf and wondered how the poor, poor woman had even survived her encounter with the layer of devil dust. To clean it, he had to move the statues first. Figurines of fairies and dragons. I wonder if you live in the Otherworld too. While he performed the task, he thought about James. Maybe in Elf Land that bloody half-elf flies on a pink dragon and sneezes fairies out of his nostrils. Nick huffed to himself, garnering concerned glances from Mora, Lucy, and a few customers.
He shook his head, and having vanquished the dust, he began to place the statues back on the shelf. There was anger pulsing in his body. He half blamed James for Kerra’s death, hearing his stupid laugh from the night before. Necrophiliac necromancer. Hilarious. Nick’s jaw locked up tense. It took a moment for the ache to subside.
Discounting murderers, he wasn’t sure he’d ever met a more unlikable person than James. The half-elf had been so morose and inconsiderate. On top of that, he was useless. Is he even able to protect me?
But alongside Nick’s frustration was excitement. Dulled, but still there. Just the idea that elves actually existed and lived in a realm most humans didn’t know existed … It was unbelievable. When he was younger, he had dreamed of other worlds and magical powers and mythical beings, and now it seemed he was living those dreams. Although it was far less glamorous than he’d fantasised.
Heading over to the counter to serve a customer, he remembered how James had vanished on the night he chased him down the street. Was that magic? He’d forgotten to ask at Tamara’s.
The man at the till point purchased a singing bowl, and Nick found himself staring at the guy’s ears. James’s had been very slightly pointed. This man’s appeared normal. Nick glanced at his eyes; both were the same colour.
‘Have you got a staring problem, mate?’ the customer said aggressively.
Nick was startled, but replied, ‘I’ve got bigger problems than that. Enjoy your over-priced bowl.’ He handed the customer his change and bag.
‘Nicolas,’ Mora said, hurrying over, ‘would you like to take a short break?’ Apparently it was an order, not a question. Nick shuffled to the back of the store and heard his manager apologise to the man and thank him for shopping at Creaky Crystals. Lucy peered across at Nick and gave him a friendly ‘you’re-in-trouble’ smile.
In a small room the staff used for breaks and storing personal belongings, he sat down on a basic sofa and waited for his manager. Fifteen minutes passed without her arriving. Eventually he got up and returned to the shop floor, figuring she hadn’t come back because it was busy again. When he got back he said, ‘Sorry, Mora.’
She was serving at the till, but smiled to him softly. ‘It’s okay.’
The rest of the shift went smoothly. Austin didn’t come into the store to cut off his head, and he spent most of his time imagining what the Otherworld was like. On a few occasions, he cocked his head at Lucy and considered if she was of a different species. Something weird and wonderful, he was sure. Maybe she even featured herself in the epic fantasy she was writing. Wouldn’t be surprised. He also took a moment to ask Mora about her stomach cramps, and discovered they had passed; it was a relief to realise not all of his interventions had dire consequences.
On his way out of Creaky Crystals, he was glad he no longer had to pass the time. Already he’d mentally transformed Lucy and Mora (and some unfortunate customers) into as many folklore creatures he could think of. Now, though, it was time to find out how Tom’s key had ended up in Austin’s possession.
Nick arrived at his dad’s house, knocked, and waited for an answer.
‘Hello, Son,’ his dad greeted him and stepped forwards for a hug. He was still in the smart clothes he wore for work. For years he’d held a high-income IT position for Lansin Island Council. Apparently the job didn’t require great people skills, as John had managed to keep it even when he’d grown introverted after Samantha’s disappearance.
‘Hi.’ Nick made his way inside, and heard his dad close the door behind him.
‘I had a quick look for that key you texted me about, Nicolas, but haven’t seen it anywhere.’
As Nick walked to the kitchen, he glanced at table tops and shelves, but of course he knew he wouldn’t find it. ‘That’s okay. Do you know where it might be? If anyone would have taken it?’
When his dad caught up with him, he gave a confused look. ‘No one’s been over here, really. Why would anyone take it? Is everything okay?’
‘Everything’s fine. Tom’s just lost it, that’s all.’
John hmmmed. ‘Okay. Have you had any more news on Kerra?’
‘Nothing substantial.’ He told his dad about the latest updates from Detective Talwar, and then the two of them discussed the distasteful media coverage of the event, the way it had been hyped up, and the island’s interest in the mystery. Is it any more distasteful than me standing here lying to my own dad?
‘You’ll find her, Nicolas,’ said John, after his rant was done. ‘You told me you would, and I believe you. I’m sorry I didn’t at first.’
Nick’s eyes began to burn under threat of tears. Why did he have to say that? Dry-mouthed, he steered the conversation to something more bearable. ‘Is Tommy here?’ he struggled to say. ‘I want to ask him if he’s seen the key.’
‘He’s upstairs.’ John compressed his lips into a regretful smile. Nick headed for the stairs, but heard his dad shout, ‘Are you staying for dinner, Nicolas?’
‘No, thank you. I’ll eat at home.’
‘You’re welcome to i
f you—’
‘No, Dad, it’s fine, thanks.’ The words spluttered out on his jog up the stairs. Being nosey, he peeked into the office on the way to Tommy’s room. He was happy to see his dad’s bed was no longer crammed into there; John was back to the bedroom he used to share with Nick’s mum. Still being nosey, he next went to Tom’s old bedroom. It was a mess. The sight annoyed him, because it didn’t look like Tom could move back in even if he wanted to. There was a sofa instead of a bed, crap was sprawled all over the floor, and Tommy’s PlayStation 3 was set up, making use of a large TV and the couch.
Jump in your brother’s grave, Tommy, why don’t you? Nick sighed, then moved on.
He knocked on the only closed door upstairs, then heard a low grumble. A typical response from Tommy. Assuming it meant ‘come in,’ he entered.
Humid air, tinged sour, wafted out. Nick instinctively looked at the nearest window and considered going to open it. But that would appear rude. He tried to breathe lighter instead.
Tommy was lifting weights, his face dotted with sweat. He placed down the weights with a clink and then sat on his bed. ‘Sorry about Kerra,’ he mumbled. ‘Hope the police find her soon.’
That’s it? After not talking to me about it since it happened, that’s all you’ve got to say? Annoyed, Nick just nodded. ‘Yeah, me too.’ He knew Tommy hadn’t been fond of Kerra; when he’d started dating her again, his brother had outright said, ‘Why take that cheatin’ tramp back? I’d never get back with a girl that did that to me.’ Nick hadn’t bothered trying to justify it to Tommy, who wouldn’t have understood.
‘So, why yuh here?’ his brother rumbled.
Nick sat down on the other end of the bed. ‘Tom lost his house key. The last time he remembers having it was when he came here to see you and Dad.’
‘Oh.’ Tommy shifted, and when he moved, Nick realised how much bigger he was than before. As if on steroids. He and Tom used to be nearly impossible to tell apart, but now they were so different—Tom slim and lithe in movement, and Tommy brawny and intimidating. He’s taken it too far … He looks unnaturally muscular.
A Body Displaced (Lansin Island 2) Page 25
