Afraid

by Mandasue Heller

  Half frozen without her jacket, and despairing of ever finding her way out of the area alive, Skye cried out with relief when she spotted a bus up ahead that was bound for the city centre. Remembering that she still had the twenty pounds that she’d borrowed from Hayley stashed in her bra, she slipped her hand inside her shirt and tugged it out as she raced towards the bus stop. She would easily find her way home from town, and then all she had to do was hide until her dad came out of hospital and put everything right.

  And he would put it right, she was sure, because he loved her and would never have told the social worker that he couldn’t look after her. The bitch had either lied about that, or had caught him at a low point and made him say it. Either way, he was bound to change his mind once he saw her.

  Over an hour later, Skye was glad to be back on familiar territory. It was already dark enough by then that she felt safe to walk the streets without fear of being spotted by anyone she knew. But she kept her head down nevertheless, and scuttled home via a series of short cuts.

  A police car was driving slowly towards her when she turned the corner onto her road, and she instinctively ducked behind a wheelie bin and squatted down to watch as the vehicle pulled up outside her house. Two uniformed officers climbed out and one knocked on the front door while the other cupped his hands over his eyes and peered through the living-room window. After getting no answer there they went next door, and Skye strained to hear whatever they were saying to the student who answered. She was too far away to catch their words but it didn’t take a genius to guess that she’d been reported as missing when she failed to arrive back at the home with the others.

  When the coppers climbed back into the car and drove away a few minutes later, Skye waited to make sure that they didn’t come straight back before she slipped out from her hiding place and darted down the back alley.

  It was dark in the yard and she had to grope around for the brick under the kitchen window beneath which her dad had stashed a spare key for those times when her mum locked him out. She let herself into the house when she found it, then bolted the door and leaned back against it as an overwhelming sensation of relief settled over her. The air smelled really bad, and she was sure she could hear mice scurrying around. But it was home, and she had never been so happy to be there.

  Afraid to switch on the lights in case the police had told the neighbours to keep an eye out for her, Skye tiptoed down the dark hallway and into the living room after a while. The curtains were partially open in there, and the dim beam from the lamp-post across the road highlighted the dark patch of blood on the carpet where her dad had been lying when she’d found him. Her legs wobbled at the sight of it and she staggered back against the couch, knocking her mum’s mobile phone which had been sitting on the arm onto the floor.

  She reached down for it, but quickly snatched her hand back when her fingertips plunged into something soft and squishy. Terrified that it might be one of her dad’s eyes, or a piece of his brain, but unable to keep herself from looking closer, she leaned down and peered at it. As her vision began to sharpen she realised that it was actually a chocolate. There were several more scattered around, and she traced them to an upturned Dairy Milk box. She felt sad when she saw that, because she guessed that her dad must have bought them for her mum as a way of saying sorry for the argument – and the crazy bitch had thanked him by sticking a knife in his back.

  Her gaze was drawn back to the blood now, and she shivered, wondering how her dad could possibly have survived losing so much.

  Maybe he didn’t, a little voice in her head piped up. Maybe he’s dead, and the social worker just told you he was okay to shut you up.

  On the verge of crying again, Skye snatched the phone off the floor and fled to her bedroom. All she wanted to do was climb beneath the quilt and go to sleep, but the police were bound to come back before too long so she needed to find somewhere to hide – somewhere where no one ever would think to look for her.

  The attic!

  The thought came to her in a flash, and it was perfect. The ceilings in this house were high and there was no ladder up to the attic, so no one would ever dream that she could have climbed up there. She had long ago discovered that she could haul herself up there by standing on the banister rail and holding onto one side of the hatch while throwing her legs up through the gap. Her mum and dad didn’t even know she could do that, so she’d be able to stay up there for ages without anyone realising she was even in the house.

  As she stood up, her heel clipped the laptop that was sticking out from under her bed and she slid it out and wrapped it in her quilt along with her mum’s phone. Then she ran quickly down to the kitchen and grabbed whatever she could find in the cupboards that was edible and didn’t need cooking before going back upstairs and hauling her stash up into the attic.

  There were no boards on the floor up there: just beams, between which lay wires and sorry-looking strips of glass wool that were so old they were crumbling to dust. Glad that she’d brought the quilt, because it was even colder up there than it was downstairs, Skye wrapped it around herself and perched on a beam with her back to the wall. She could hear the muffled sound of music and laughter filtering through from the students’ side and the whistle of the wind creeping through the gaps in the roof where several slates had been dislodged. Glad of the faint sliver of moonlight that was shining through those same gaps, Skye switched the laptop on, and then reached for her mum’s phone while she waited for the computer to boot up.

  Tears burned her eyes when she pulled up her dad’s name, and she bit down hard on her lip to prevent them from spilling over as she stared at it for several long seconds before pressing the Call button. Disappointed to hear a recorded message informing her that there was insufficient credit on the phone to make outgoing calls, she sent him a text instead, reading: Dad, it’s me. Ring me if you can see this, I really need to talk to you.

  She waited a few minutes for a reply, but when none came, she sent another, saying, Please come home, Dad. I’m scared xxx

  Aware that there was nothing more she could do, and praying that her dad would answer soon, Skye turned her attention back to the laptop.

  A few streets away, Hayley had just switched her own laptop on. This latest chest infection seemed to be easing, and she’d been looking forward to going back to school next week and catching up with Skye. But then the police had called round to ask if she had seen or heard from Skye, and she was unable to sleep now for worrying about her.

  The police hadn’t given any details. But news spread like wildfire around their way, and when her mum had told her about Skye’s mum supposedly stabbing her dad, and Skye finding him straight after leaving here that day, Hayley felt guilty that she hadn’t thought to ask if Skye could stay for dinner, or even a sleepover. At least then somebody else might have found her dad, and Skye wouldn’t have had to go through the trauma of it on her own.

  Desperate now to speak to Skye, Hayley logged into Facebook and checked her messages to see if her friend had tried to contact her. There were no messages, but when she went to her newsfeed and saw some of the vile comments that their so-called friends had posted on their walls about Skye and the stabbing, she was disgusted. They didn’t know what Skye had been through, and it upset Hayley that they were slagging off her friend just because her mum was mentally ill. Hayley was lucky; her parents loved each other and would never dream of laying their hands on each other in anger. But Skye’s parents were horrible – to each other and to Skye. It sickened Hayley when she heard some of the stuff that her friend had gone through, but she had long ago learned to keep her opinions to herself when Skye confided in her, because Skye could get really, really defensive when it came to anyone criticising her parents.

  Sad and worried, Hayley left a message now, telling Skye that the police were looking for her, and pleading with her to get in touch. Then, logging out of Facebook, she signed into WhisperBox to do the same.

  As Hayley logged
out of Facebook, Skye was just logging in. She was touched when she saw Hayley’s message, but when she read that the police had been round there she decided not to send a reply, scared that they might have told Hayley to contact her in order to find out where she was hiding. Instead, marking it as unread, she logged out and switched to WhisperBox, only to find that Hayley had left another message there.

  I know you must be scared, this one read, and I’m scared too, ’cos you’re my best friend and I love you. Please call me or come round when you get this. My mum and dad will help you, I promise. They’ll talk to the police and make sure you get properly looked after until this gets sorted out.

  Skye felt a twinge of resentment when she read this. It was all right for Hayley to sit there in her pretty bedroom promising to help, but if she was half the friend she claimed to be why hadn’t she asked her mum and dad if Skye could stay with them?

  As a wave of self-pity washed over her, Skye was about to log out when her Whisper light started to flash, and she smiled when she saw that it was QTPye.

  Hey babes, how’s you? the girl asked. I was worried about you when you went off so sudden last week. Everything okay now?

  Not really, Skye replied, squinting to see the keys in the darkness.

  Aw, they’re not still at it, are they? Don’t they ever stop?

  It’s way worse this time, Skye typed, the words she had been holding in all weekend pouring out through her fingertips as if someone had pulled an internal plug. My mum went mental and stabbed my dad.

  OMG!!! You weren’t there, were you?

  No, I came in just after. I called ambulance, but pigs came as well. They arrested my mum and sent me to a home, but I’ve legged it, so now they’re looking for me. They’ve been to Hayley’s and everything.

  Hayley???

  Sorry, Sugarplum.

  Ah, right. So where are you?

  In the attic.

  Awww, I bet you’re in bits. But you shouldn’t have gone home if they’re looking for you, babes. That’s the first place they’ll look.

  They’ve already been, but I’ve got nowhere else to go, Skye replied, sniffling softly as the tears she’d been holding back began to trickle down her cheeks. I just want my dad to come home.

  I’m so sorry, babes. Wish I knew you in real life so I could give you a great big hug.

  Me too.

  An alert suddenly popped up on the laptop’s screen, warning Skye that there were just a few minutes of battery life left. Aware that she couldn’t risk going back down into the house to find the charger, because somebody might come in and catch her, she quickly typed: Laptop about to die, so got to go. Don’t know when I’ll get another chance to talk to you, but thanks for caring, I won’t forget it xxxx

  Wait! QTPye wrote back. Have you got a mobile?

  Only my mum’s, Skye replied. But she’s got no credit so I can’t ring anyone.

  Me neither, but we can text, suggested QTPye. Send me the number!

  Panicking, because she didn’t know the number off by heart, Skye snatched up her mum’s phone and quickly found it. The screen went black at the exact time she pressed ‘send’ after typing the number, so she laid the laptop on the beam beside her and stared at the phone, praying that her message had got through in time. But when half an hour had passed with no text from QTPye she guessed that she’d been too late and, feeling very sorry for herself, curled into a ball and cried herself to sleep.

  6

  Jeff Benson was agitated. There was some kind of construction work going on outside the window behind his bed, and this was the second day running that the crew had started at the ungodly hour of eight a.m.

  They had been at it for two hours now, and Jeff had a banging headache from the racket that they were making with their hammers and drills. It didn’t help that he’d been kept awake half the night by the old man in the bed to his right coughing and spluttering. Although he had felt a bit guilty for fantasising about smothering the old bastard with his pillow when he’d woken this morning, to find the guy’s bed had been stripped and had been told by a nurse that the man had passed away in the early hours, and that the noises he’d been making were probably what they called the death rattle.

  Still, at least the old man was free now, unlike Jeff, who was going completely stir-crazy. Four days was too long for a man to be lying around on his back like this, so he’d been gutted when the doctor had done his rounds a short time earlier and said that he wanted him to stay for a couple more days at least.

  Already pissed off, Jeff’s hackles rose when two police officers walked onto the ward and headed straight for his bed. Convinced that they had come to have another crack at getting him to admit that Andrea had stabbed him, he scowled up at them.

  ‘I’ve already told your mates everything I’ve got to say, so don’t bother asking me the same questions again. My wife is innocent. I was jumped in the alley. End of.’

  ‘We’re not here about that,’ one of the officers told him. ‘This is about your daughter.’

  ‘What about her?’ Jeff snapped. ‘If she’s told you it was her mum who stabbed me, she wasn’t even home when it happened, so I suggest you check the facts before you start—’

  ‘She’s missing,’ the officer interrupted. ‘She failed to arrive back at the children’s home after school yesterday afternoon, and we’re trying to establish where she might have gone. Has she tried to contact you?’

  ‘No.’ Jeff sat up and frowned at the man. ‘But what’s this about a children’s home? The social worker said she’d be going to foster-parents – in a proper house, like.’

  ‘That’s not really our concern,’ said the copper. ‘We’re just trying to locate Skye, so is there anywhere you can think of where she might have gone?’

  ‘Not really.’ Jeff shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair.

  ‘The head at her old school gave us the name of one girl she’s friendly with,’ the officer told him. ‘A Hayley Simms?’

  ‘That rings a bell.’ Jeff frowned thoughtfully. ‘I think Skye might have brought her round to ours once,’ he said, thinking it best not to add that it had only been the once because Andrea had banned the kid from coming again, convinced that she was some kind of spy because she spoke a bit posh. ‘Have you talked to her?’ he asked.

  The cop nodded. ‘We did, but she hasn’t heard from Skye, and doesn’t think she’s good enough friends with anyone else to have gone to them for help. That’s why we’re here: to see if you can think of anyone she’s likely to have contacted.’

  ‘I don’t really know her mates, to be honest,’ Jeff admitted. ‘I work long hours, and she’s usually in her room by the time I get home. Her mum would probably have a better idea about that kind of thing, but I doubt she’s in the frame of mind to remember stuff like that just now.’

  ‘Unfortunately not,’ the officer affirmed.

  ‘Where is she?’ Jeff asked, guessing that they must have already tried to question Andrea. ‘I hope you haven’t still got her banged up, ’cos, like I told the last lot, she’s ill and needs treatment, not locking up.’

  ‘She’s in hospital,’ the officer told him. ‘But if we could get back to Skye … Is there a relative she’s particularly close to? A grandparent, maybe? Or a favourite aunt or uncle?’

  ‘We’re not that kind of family,’ Jeff murmured. ‘We’ve had a lot of hassle with them in the past, so we pretty much stick to ourselves. It’s less complicated that way.’

  ‘Okay. Well, if you do hear from Skye, please let us know immediately,’ said the officer. ‘Now she’s under the care of Social Services, it would be an offence for anyone who knew her whereabouts to withhold that information.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’d tell you,’ Jeff replied. ‘She’s my kid, and I want what’s best for her.’

  ‘Course you do.’ The second officer hadn’t spoken until now, but his expression contradicted his words – and it wasn’t lost on Jeff.

  ‘What’s that
supposed to mean?’ he demanded. ‘Me and my missus might have had our troubles, but we’ve always done our best by Skye, so it’s not my fault she’s done a runner. It’s that social worker you want to be questioning, not me. She’s the one who was supposed to be looking after her. And you lot are no better,’ he went on angrily. ‘You say Skye went missing yesterday, so how come this is the first I’ve heard of it? I should have been the first to know, not the last.’

  ‘Somebody did come to see you yesterday evening,’ the first officer informed him. ‘But you were sedated, so we couldn’t speak to you.’

  ‘Oh,’ Jeff muttered, temporarily thrown. ‘No one told me. But that still doesn’t make it right. And I’m not happy about her being shoved in a home.’

  ‘You’ll have to take that up with Social Services,’ the man said. ‘We’ll let you know as soon as we find Skye. But, as I said, if you hear from her in the meantime, please—’

  ‘Ring you,’ Jeff cut in. ‘Yeah, I know.’

  Teeth gritted, he watched now as the coppers made their way off the ward.

  ‘Everything okay, son?’

  ‘Eh?’ Jeff snapped his head around at the sound of the voice, and frowned when he saw that it was the man in the bed to his left.

  ‘Just asking if you’re okay,’ the man said. ‘Only that’s the third time the bobbies have been to see you in the last two days. You in some kind of trouble?’

  Jeff could practically smell the old duffer’s curiosity. He opened his mouth to tell him to mind his own business, but quickly changed his mind and clamped it shut again. The way he was feeling right now, he was likely to go too far if he started laying into the man and he couldn’t be bothered with the hassle that was bound to cause. Instead, he pushed the sheet off his legs and tugged the curtain around his bed.