The Lost Ones

by Ben Cheetham

  There was that question again. Who had Rachel prayed to? It jabbed its way into Jake’s mind along with a whole lot of others. Foremost was: had Hank played a role in Tina’s death? There was no mention of anything suspicious. But surely it couldn’t just be a crazy coincidence. And why hadn’t Rachel asked if he had anything to do with it? Jake had been willing to give her the benefit of the doubt before, but he struggled to believe that even a twelve-year-old from a strict religious background could be that naive. He thought about that ‘feeling of butterflies’. He got the same feeling himself when doing something wrong but exciting. He nodded to himself. Yeah, she had her suspicions all right. She didn’t ask because it suited her not to know the answer.

  Resisting the urge to skip chunks of writing in his desire to know where all this was leading, Jake read on.

  Hank walked me home and we kissed at the back gate. Then he said three words that I will never forget. I love you. And I told him I loved him back. He said we should seal our love with blood. He had a penknife and we each cut our thumb and pressed them together. He said that now we are as good as man and wife.

  The entry finished with bubble writing that proclaimed, ‘RACHEL AND HANK TOGETHER 4 EVER.’

  The next entry was dated almost a month later. ‘Saturday, 17 June’.

  I am sorry for having neglected my diary for so long. I think I have not needed to write anything because I have been so happy. Since Tina’s death everyone leaves me alone at school. I still have no friends there but I don’t care. All I think about all day is seeing Hank. We only have half an hour together but it easily makes up for all the time I spend on my own. We kiss and hug and talk about everything and anything. Hank is thinking about becoming a vet because of what happened to Micah. He says that I can be his assistant if I want to. He really wants to go on another night walk but I am too scared to sneak out of the house again. I think my parents are getting suspicious. Yesterday Mummy asked me again why I keep being late home from school. I told her I’m at the library working on a project about the English Civil War which we are learning about in history class. Also later on Daddy asked me something odd. He asked if any boys at school were bothering me. I said no and he made me promise to tell him if any of them did. I told Hank what Daddy said and Hank said we should be more careful for a while. So today he walked me straight home and now I feel really sad because I only had a few minutes with my beloved.

  Again there was a big gap between entries. ‘Tuesday, 11 July’ was preceded by an ‘R.I.H. Tina Dixon’ headstone. Then came a couple of brief sentences: ‘There was an article in the Gazette today about Tina. The coroner decided her death was an accident.’

  The next day brought another entry.

  Only 6 days before school breaks up for the summer holidays! I am counting down the hours. 6 more days and then Hank and I can spend as much time together as we want for 6 whole weeks. I’m so excited that I feel like bursting. But I am also a bit nervous. Hank asked me today if I am a virgin. I said yes and he said he is too. He said he would like to lose his virginity with me. He asked if I felt the same and I said yes but that I don’t want to get pregnant. He said he will make sure I don’t get pregnant and he asked me when I want to do it. I said in the holidays when we have the whole day together. He asked if I was scared and I said no but that I do not want to end up a whore like Tina Dixon. He said I am not a whore because we love each other. He said that is all that matters. He is right. I do not care what God thinks about me any more. All I care about is Hank.

  Jake snorted through his nostrils. He’d wondered when Hank would get around to wanting more than hugs and kisses. He doubted that the slimy creep was a virgin. Or maybe he was. Maybe he couldn’t get it up with girls his own age. The next entry was dated ‘Monday, 17 July’ and framed in ominous black like a funeral notice.

  I hate my parents. I HATE THEM I HATE THEM. They have ruined my EVERYTHING! When I got home today Mummy asked why I was late and I said I had been to the library. She said she had phoned the library and I wasn’t there. She asked again where I had been and I said I was telling the truth. She said I am a liar and sent me to my room and locked me in. Mary whispered through the keyhole Rachel’s been a naughty girl Rachel’s been a naughty girl. I told her to get lost. When Daddy got home from work he came to my room. He was really angry. He asked me if I was seeing a boy and I said no. He said lying lips are an abomination to the Lord and that I would remain in my room until I told the truth. But I will never tell them about Hank. NEVER NEVER NEVER. I would rather die.

  Raised voices from downstairs prodded their way into Jake’s consciousness. He jumped up, shifted the dresser away from the door and padded along the landing to the top of the stairs. His mum was pulling on her shoes by the front door, watched worriedly by his grandma.

  ‘They probably won’t let you anywhere near the search,’ said Cathy.

  ‘I don’t care,’ replied Amanda. ‘They found a piece of Erin’s T-shirt. They might find her next. I have to be there if they do.’

  ‘You don’t know that it came from Erin’s T-shirt.’

  Henry stepped into the hallway from the living room. ‘And you don’t know that it doesn’t, Cathy. Amanda’s right. She should be there. I’ll take her.’

  ‘No, you won’t, Henry,’ said Cathy. ‘Look at you. You’re absolutely dead on your feet.’

  Amanda held out her palm. ‘Give me your car keys. I’ll go alone.’

  ‘Alone.’ Cathy sounded hurt. ‘Do you really think I’d let you go alone? You’re in an even worse state than your father. If you must go, I’ll take you. Henry will stay here with Jake.’

  ‘Fine. Let’s just get going.’

  There was such heart-rending urgency in his mum’s voice that Jake wanted to rush downstairs and ask if he could go too. He knew she’d say no, though. Not because she was angry with him, but because she wanted to protect him. Besides, the lure of the diary was too strong. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving it when he was so close to the end. As his mum and grandma headed out the door, he returned to his bedroom and resumed reading.

  ‘Wednesday, 19 July’. Once again, the entry was bordered by black.

  I was sick this morning for the first time since Tina Dixon died. Mummy brought my breakfast up to my bedroom because I am not allowed downstairs. I could not stomach a mouthful. Mummy said she was sorry to have to do this to me but it was for my own good. I asked how keeping me prisoner in my room is good for me. She said that we must live to please God and those who live by the sinful nature cannot please God. But I do not want to please God because God does nothing to please me. Hank does lots of things to please me. Mummy said that although what I have been doing may feel right it is wrong. She said that is how Satan seduces us. He disguises himself as an Angel and by the time we realise who he is it is too late. When she left my room I started crying. Later on Daddy came to see me. He read to me from the Bible for over an hour. As he was reading I started to feel sick. I tried to hold it back but I couldn’t and I was sick on the carpet. Daddy called Mummy to clean it up. He said that I was sick because of my sin and that he will read to me every day until the Devil is purged from my body.

  The following couple of entries were in the same vein. Day by day, Rachel seemed to be sliding deeper into despondency. Jake skimmed over them, his gaze lingering on sentences such as ‘I can’t stand it any more’, and ‘I wish I was dead’, and ‘I don’t know who I hate more God or my parents.’ Then on ‘Sunday, 23 July’ instead of black the entry was bordered by the usual doodles of stick figures, animals, flowers, moons and stars. ‘I have seen my beloved!’ it began.

  I was not able to speak to him but just looking at him lifted my heart up into the clouds. I was allowed out of my room today to go to church. I did not listen to anything Reverend Douglas said. As we left the church I saw Hank sitting at the end of a pew near the back. He didn’t look at me but as I passed he stood up and brushed against me. In the car I found a note in my coat po
cket. My heart began to beat so fast I thought it would burst! Later on in my room I read the note which said I will come and see you tonight. It is dark now and everyone is asleep except me. As I write this I am waiting at my window for my beloved. The sky is clear and I can see a smiling face in the moon.

  ‘Tuesday, 25 July’, the day before the murders. The entry started breathlessly:

  Last night my whole world changed! I waited up for ages but Hank did not come to the garden. Eventually I fell asleep by the window. I do not know how long I was asleep for but I woke with a start and as if by magic Hank was there in my bedroom. At first I thought I was dreaming but then Hank kissed me and I knew I was awake. We held each other close and spoke in whispers. I said Daddy will kill you if he finds you here and he said he is not afraid of him. I told him why I was being kept in my room and he said they could not keep us apart forever. I said they would do everything they could to try. My whole body was shaking from stopping myself from crying and I said I . . .

  Jake read the rest of the sentence out loud, ‘. . . wish they were dead.’ His heart beating almost as fast as he imagined Rachel’s must have been, he read on.

  Hank went quiet when I said that. After what seemed like ages he said do you really mean that? And I said yes if it meant I could be with him. Then he said there was something about the demon at the 5 Women that he hadn’t told me. He said the demon had spoken to him. It said Hank has a great power inside him that means he will get everything he ever wants but that he will go to Hell for it. Hank said he asked why he was going to Hell and the demon said because of love. Hank asked what was so bad about love and the demon just laughed. Hank asked the demon what its name is and the demon said you will find out on the day you die. Then the demon disappeared. Hank said to me so you see I knew you were going to ask me to do this. I said I have not asked you to do anything. Hank said I thought you wanted me to kill your parents. When he said that I could not speak. It was like there was something inside me holding on to my words. All I could do was nod. Hank said so you do want me to kill them and I nodded. Hank said OK I’ll do it the night after tomorrow night when the moon is full and we’ll blame it on devil worshippers. I managed to say I love you. He said I love you too more than my own life and after Wednesday night nothing will keep us apart. We kissed for a long time and then I said you should go. Hank did not want to risk sneaking through the house again so we tied the bedsheets to the radiator and he climbed out of the window. I lay awake for the rest of the night and all I could think about was how much I love Hank and how wonderful things will be after Wednesday night. Tina was right I am going to Hell but I do not care.

  A shiver ran through Jake. So this was it. Finally, after over four decades, the secret was revealed. He tried to imagine killing his own parents and failed. It was too fucked up. It almost made the idea of it being devil worshippers seem quaint. All the way through the diary he’d thought Hank was the one manipulating Rachel, but now he found himself wondering whether it was the other way around. He got the feeling she’d known exactly what she was doing when she wished her parents dead, despite her stunned silence after Hank offered to do the deed.

  Trembling with anticipation, he turned the page. ‘Wednesday, 26 July’. The entry started off as if it was a perfectly normal day.

  I took a nap this afternoon. I was tired because I did not sleep well last night. Mummy brought me my tea. It was lamb chop, boiled potatoes and cabbage. I ate every last bit because I know I will need all my strength. Daddy came to see me and we read the Bible together. Afterwards he said you may hate us for this now but when you are older you will thank us. He kissed my forehead before leaving. I can still feel where his moustache tickled me. It is 8 p.m. now. Mary has just gone to bed. She said goodnight through my keyhole. It is not dark yet but the ghost of the full moon is outside my window. Not long now. I thought I would feel nervous but I don’t. I feel really calm. It is almost 11 p.m. now and dark outside. Mummy and Daddy will be going to bed soon. I think I heard a noise downstairs just a minute ago like a glass falling to the floor. Someone is coming up the stairs. They are unlocking my door.

  There were a couple of blank lines, then the entry resumed: ‘It is all over.’ Jake assumed Rachel was referring to the murders, but the next sentence proved him wrong.

  I never want to see Hank again. It was him. He killed my beautiful Micah. He came to my room and said my parents were dead. He was dressed all in black with black gloves on. There was blood on his face. I asked if he was hurt and he said it wasn’t his blood. He said he needed my help with something downstairs. We went quietly downstairs so as not to wake Mary. Mummy was on the kitchen floor. Daddy was in the living room. There was loads of blood. I didn’t realise a body had so much blood in it. They didn’t even look like my parents any more. They looked like dolls whose heads had been smashed to pieces. Hank gave me some gloves and we used the blood to draw all sorts of strange symbols on the walls. I asked Hank to bring Mummy into the living room so that she could be with Daddy. I don’t want them to be lonely even if they tried to make me lonely. After he’d done that Hank said he was going to steal some things to confuse the police and make them think it might be a burglary. We put all the silverware and ornaments into bin liners and took them to Hank’s car. I had never seen his car before and when I did I felt sick. It was a brown Cortina with red stripes.

  A nauseous feeling of his own rose inside Jake. Cold with sudden sweat, he reread the sentence several times. Then his gaze raced onwards, hardly taking in the words any more.

  I remembered Hank saying Micah was run over by a brown car. I got on my knees and looked at the bumper and I found a dent and some bits of hair the same colour brown as Micah. Hank asked what I was doing and I asked him did you kill my dog? He said no. I said we promised not to lie to each other. He said I’m not lying. But I knew he was. He kissed me and said he would see me in a few days when all the fuss over my parents has died down. I said OK. But I won’t see him in a few days. He took my Micah from me and I will never EVER forgive him for it. I am finished with this diary as well. Before I call the police I will hide it somewhere where no one will find it

  Instead of a full stop, the diary ended with a little heart cracked in two. The fact Rachel was more concerned about Micah than her parents didn’t even enter Jake’s thoughts. There was no room in his mind for anything other than that one sentence – It was a brown Cortina with red stripes. He set the diary aside and rose from the bed. On the balls of his feet, he returned to the top of the stairs. The house was silent. He crept downstairs, remembering to avoid the creaky floorboard that had given him away before. The living-room door was slightly ajar. As he dodged past it, he glimpsed his granddad in the armchair. He slunk into a room lined by bookshelves full of red-leather photo albums. Each album had a year embossed in gold lettering on its spine. He picked out several ranging from 1970 to 1973 and flipped rapidly through them.

  He found what he was looking for towards the back of the 1972 album – a photo of his granddad wearing a kipper-collared shirt and flares. Dark-brown hair was swept back from his tanned forehead. He was smiling and resting one hand proudly on a brown Cortina with a red stripe running along its side. Jake swallowed queasily. Was it possible? Were Hank and his granddad the same person? He did a quick mental calculation. His granddad would have been twenty-two not nineteen in 1972, but that proved nothing. He shook himself as if trying to dislodge the question, but it was embedded like a nail in his mind.

  He teetered on the brink of phoning his mum and spilling the whole sordid tale, but his thoughts flashed through the times he’d spent with his granddad – playing chess, watching old films, fishing, talking, laughing. His granddad couldn’t be Hank. He just couldn’t be. Could he? It suddenly occurred to him that there might be a way to find out for certain. With a steadying breath, he tucked the album under his arm and headed for the living room. His granddad was staring solemnly into the fire. His watery blue eyes slid around to Jake. ‘
What have you got there?’

  ‘I’ve been looking through old photos.’

  ‘Of your sister?’

  ‘No. I was trying not to think about Erin.’ Jake realised there was a grain of truth in his words. ‘Is that wrong?’

  Henry gave an understanding shake of his head, holding out his hand for the album. Jake gave it to him. Henry looked through the photos, smiling faintly at his younger self. ‘People used to say I looked like Tony Curtis.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘He was a popular actor at the time.’

  Henry came to the car photo. Trying to sound casual although his heart was galloping, Jake said, ‘I really like that car.’

  ‘I do too. It was my pride and joy.’

  ‘When did you get it?’

  Something that might have been a frown touched Henry’s face. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘No reason,’ Jake said quickly. ‘I just wondered.’

  Henry pursed his lips in thought. ‘I think it was December ’72. I bought it off a chap I knew from school.’

  Jake could have hugged the breath out of his granddad. December! More than four months after the murders. So Hank and Henry weren’t the same person. ‘What was the name of the man you bought it off?’

  ‘He had an unusual name for these parts. Hank. He lived over at Netherwitton. I don’t know if he still lives there. I haven’t been in contact with him for years. He was a queer sort of chap.’