by Clare Revell
By the time she returned to the girls, Vicky had finished. Over the whole top of the picture was a pair of red slanted eyes, with evil eyebrows. Lots of black lines surrounded it. Amy shuddered at the sheer evil that seemed to emanate from it.
Amy pointed to the bigger of the two figures. “Is that you?”
Vicky shook her head.
“Someone from school, then?”
She shrugged.
Amy tried again, this time tapping the eyes looking down on the figures. “And this?”
Vicky pushed the chair back and ran from the room. Footsteps pounded up the stairs, and her bedroom door slammed shut.
Amy looked at Jodie. “Any ideas?”
Jodie shrugged. “Maybe it’s the bogeyman.”
“You know he isn’t real.”
“He killed Mum.”
Amy shook her head. “No. A bad man killed your mum and he’s now locked up, right?”
“Dad says he won’t ever get out. He killed a lot of people. The Prime Minister, too. And he tried to kill Auntie Adeline. Uncle Nate and Dad saved her just in time.”
“And that’s a good thing.”
“But they couldn’t stop him from killing Mum. Was it something we did wrong? Is God punishing us by taking her away?”
Amy shook her head. What on earth did she say in response to that? “No. I lost my mum when I was ten. She got very sick and went to hospital and never came home. Dad said that God needed her more in heaven than we needed her here. But that didn’t seem fair, because I needed her.”
Jodie nodded. “Just like we do. What happened?”
“Dad kept working. He was in the army. I got to go all over the world with him, except when he went away to war.”
“Is he still in the army now?” Jodie asked.
Amy shook her head. “He died fighting a war in the desert when I was nineteen.”
“So you don’t have anyone?”
“No. Maybe what my dad said works for your mum, and God had a job for her to do in heaven. But it is nothing you did, or said, or didn’t do. God loves you, and Vicky and your Dad. And He always will. We don’t understand why things happen sometimes, but have to trust He will work it out for good, just like it says in Romans chapter eight.”
“Even the bad stuff?”
“Especially the bad stuff. Because God doesn’t make the bad things happen, bad people do. God takes the results of those actions and works them into something good.”
“OK.”
Amy nodded. “And any time you want to talk more about this, we can.”
Jodie nodded. “Dad still cries when he thinks we’re sleeping.”
She nodded. “I do too sometimes, when I think of my parents and miss them. But I know they’re in heaven and I’ll see them again one day.”
“Just wish I could make him feel better.”
“A hug always helps. Even for grownups. Maybe try that the next time he looks sad.” Amy stood and put the pictures in a drawer intending to show Dane when he got back from work. “Now, what would you like for dinner?”
“Chips.” Jodie immediately gave the usual response.
“That was a silly question, wasn’t it? How about toad in the hole instead?”
“With chips.”
“Fine, with chips.”
Just as she was about to dish up, she got a text from Dane saying he was going to be really late. She covered his and left it on the side of the counter, finally putting it in the fridge before she went to bed at ten.
As always, Vicky woke her at two in the morning, just standing over the bed. Amy got up and put Vicky back into her bed, sitting with her until she was sure the child had settled. She crept out of the room and pulled the door almost closed. Quietly she turned, and walked straight into Dane. She gasped, her hand flying over her mouth to stifle the sound.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. His hands touched her arms reassuringly and heat shot through her pyjama sleeves. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve not long gotten in and heard footsteps. Is Vicky all right?”
“She’s sleepwalking. Just put her back to bed.”
“Sleepwalking?” Concern flickered in his eyes, overriding the exhaustion.
Amy nodded.
“I’ve just made some tea. Want to join me, talk this through?”
“Sure. Let me just grab my robe.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you down there.”
Amy dashed into her room and fastened her robe tightly over her pyjamas, grateful she wasn’t wearing something flimsy and see-through. She followed him downstairs and sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. The remains of his dinner sat on the plate by the sink. “How was your day?”
“Rough.” Dane brought the tea over. “I deal with death on a daily basis, but when it’s a child, it’s so much harder.”
“I can’t imagine doing that every day.”
Her mind worked quickly, putting together Jodie’s comment about Dane saving Adeline just in time and what he’d just said. He must be a medic of some description. Maybe a doctor or paramedic. That would also explain the long hours and shift work. But Amy didn’t ask. She daren’t ask, because then he’d ask questions in response, and she had no answers. At least none she could honestly give him.
“Some days I hate it and would rather do something else. The worst part about my job, is having to inform the parents and then watch them fall apart. No parent should have to outlive their child.” He took a long sip of his tea. “Anyway, that’s enough about my day. You said that Vicky sleepwalks?”
“She has since my first night here. She comes in always at the same time, just after two. She stands by the bed, looking at me. I take her back to bed, stay with her until she’s settled. She never remembers it in the morning.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I assumed you did, so I tried not to disturb you. I would have said something sooner otherwise. Most kids do it at some point and grow out of it.” She felt bad and tried to change the subject. “Would you like to see what they did today? I tried something new with them.”
“Sure.”
“I overheard what Vicky’s teacher said about drawing and looked it up. Apparently it’s pretty effective, plus it’s been used on some of the TV shows I’ve seen.”
He stared at her over his cup. “I thought I said she didn’t need counseling.”
“It isn’t counseling. It’s just another way of communicating and it puts both girls on the same level playing field.”
“If you say so.”
Amy looked at him. “I wouldn’t go against your wishes, but this proved rather interesting.” She stood and pulled the pictures from the drawer. “So rather than talk about our day, we drew it. This is mine.”
Dane looked at the picture and grinned. “You mean you didn’t sit down all day watching TV and eating cream cakes?”
Amy laughed. “Nope, that’s what I’m planning for tomorrow. The most exciting thing that happened today was the gas man coming to read the meter.”
“Wonderful. I should get the bill next week then.”
She handed him another picture. “This is Jodie’s.”
Dane’s smile grew. “Sleeping at school. That doesn’t surprise me.” He ran his finger over the heart, then paused at the gravestone. A slight frown crossed his face. “What’s this?”
“She wouldn’t elaborate.” She handed him the final one. “And this is Vicky’s.”
His face hardened completely. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” She pointed to the tiny figure under the tree. “That’s her. I’m guessing this is someone she’s terrified of, possibly someone from school, but she refused to look at me, never mind nod or shake her head. Jodie says the eyes are the bogeyman.”
“She would.”
“But I think it’s more likely her mother’s killer.”
“She wasn’t there,” Dane whispered. “None of us were, despite…” He broke off.
>
“Despite?”
He shook his head. “We’re talking about the kids, not me, or the…bloke that killed Jas. Go on.”
“I know I’m no expert, but I’d say whatever it is, is hanging over her. Watching her or guiding her every move. Maybe she’s scared that if she speaks, he’ll find her or take you away, too.”
“It’s possible. What about this?” He pointed to the other figures. “Huge eyes mean she’s feeling trapped and huge hands usually indicate someone’s hurting her.”
Amy nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on her. And I’ll keep drawing with her; see if she comes out with anything else.”
“Thank you.” He didn’t question or comment but rather finished his tea in brooding silence, his brow furrowed. “So what have you got planned for tomorrow?”
“Other than watching TV and eating cream cakes?” She grinned. “I thought I’d check out the ladies meeting at the church. It starts around eleven, I think.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
She nodded. “What were you going to say just now?” she asked quietly. “None of us were there despite…what?”
Dane took a deep breath, his fingers clenching into a fist. “It was really horrid. There was a serial killer stalking the streets with several victims already. Adeline, Nate’s wife, was having premonitions, and seeing the murders either as they happened, or just before. She’d been there when the Prime Minister was assassinated. She had a vision, described it…” His voice broke. “Only it was Jas. Nate found her body, came and told me. I destroyed the kitchen somewhat.”
She glanced around.
“Not this one. We moved about ten months after her death. I couldn’t stay there any longer.” He sighed. “The girls weren’t too keen at first, but I couldn’t stand being around somewhere she’d been. This place is probably a lot bigger than we need, but it’s mine and the girls seem happy here. They had a lot of say in where the furniture went, what room was painted which color and so on.”
“It’s a lovely house.” She paused. “It must have been a hard time for all of you.”
Dane blinked, his eyes glistening. “Yeah, it was.” He stood. “Anyway, I should let you get back to bed. Or it’ll be time to get up. I’ll see to the cups.”
Amy took the hint and dropped it. “Yeah, thanks for the tea. Good night.”
On the way to the church for the ladies meeting the next morning, she passed the school. It had to be break time as the playground was covered in children playing. She slid her hands into her coat pockets and stood searching for Vicky. Then she saw her.
Vicky stood on her own under a tree very much like the one in her pictures. A child ran over to her, pulling at her sleeve. Perhaps she was trying to get Vicky to join in with the game. Amy looked for a member of staff, but there didn’t seem to be anyone on playground duty. At that moment, the bell rang and the children scarpered.
Tears ran down Vicky’s face, and she slowly trudged towards the building, while a teacher shouted for her to hurry up.
Not sure what to do, Amy looked at Vicky. Should she go in, take her out of school? She prayed that God would show her what to do and that He’d be with Vicky in class.
Amy glanced at her watch, and headed on towards the church. The meeting was good, and she was glad she’d gone. On the way back, the children were out for lunch. She once again looked for Vicky and it didn’t take long to find her.
She was back under the tree. Crying, with several girls around her. Purely because it bore a striking resemblance to what Vicky had drawn, Amy pulled out her phone and took a couple of photos. She’d compare the tree with the drawing later.
Again, there was no sign of any adults around. What if this explained the drawing? Was she being bullied? She’d talk to Vicky as soon they got home, then to her teacher first thing in the morning. Dane would want to know, but he’d been so tired that morning and was so busy at work, she didn’t want to call him now and disturb him. Not that she knew what he did for a job.
He could be a government spy or MP or a refuse collector for all she knew. Although most of those were out, especially the bin man, as they didn’t work much past midday. Besides, he’d said something about death and children, so, yes, most likely a doctor of some kind. She’d tell him when he came home from work and the girls were in bed.
Vicky refused to even nod or shake her head again on the way home, or even look at Amy as she tried to ask about playtimes.
After school, she sat the girls down at the table. “OK, this afternoon, I covered those cards you did for your mum. I want you to draw me how your day went. Then we’re going to go to the cemetery and put the cards on your mum’s grave.”
“It’ll be dark.” Jodie shook her head.
“It might start getting dark on the way home, but not if you draw quickly.” She started making dinner while the girls drew. Jodie’s picture had another gravestone and the initials JKP on it. Again tucked away in the corner of the page, but larger than before. That was rather worrying. Almost as much as the see you soon Jodie had written on the card for her mum.
Vicky’s picture was the tree with four huge figures surrounding a much smaller person. And the tree was the same as the one at school.
Amy slid the cards into her bag, and handed the girls their coats. “OK, let’s go.”
“Can we get flowers, too?” Jodie asked. “Mum liked daisies.”
“Sure, we can do that.”
They caught the bus to the small cemetery on the other side of town, and bought the flowers from the shop at the bottom of the road. The girls knew where the grave was, and Amy stood to one side, giving them some privacy. She took a close look at the gravestone. It wasn’t the one Jodie kept drawing. She checked her watch. “We should start to head back in a minute.”
The girls nodded.
After a couple more minutes, it began to drizzle. “Time to go. We can return another day.” She took Vicky’s hand and started walking towards the main road.
Vicky tugged her hand and pointed to the swings across the road.
Amy nodded. “Just a few minutes. Don’t want to get too wet.”
“We’ll be late,” Jodie complained.
“So we get back after your dad. Is that going to be a problem?”
“He’ll worry.”
“I’ll text him.” They crossed the road by the lights and entered the park. Vicky ran on ahead to the swings.
“Can I do it?” Jodie held out her hand for the phone.
“OK.” Amy gave her the phone and started pushing Vicky.
Jodie played with the phone, sitting on an empty swing, with her arms wrapped around the chains. “You got a text. Can I open it?”
Amy nodded. It would only be Dane anyway, as no one else had the number.
“Dad says, ‘where are you? I’ll pick you up on my way home.’” Jodie didn’t return her phone but typed quickly. “Memorial Park. The cemetery side by the swings.” She grinned. “How many kisses?”
“None.”
“That’s six then.”
“No—” Surely Jodie hadn’t added hugs and kisses to a text Dane would assume came from Amy.
“Too late.” Jodie laughed and handed back the phone. “Can you push both of us?”
“I can try.” Amy pushed both swings, desperately hoping Jodie was teasing about the kisses.
Not more than ten minutes later, Dane stomped over to them, his face set and his eyes dark and glittering. His whole body resonated anger.
Vicky jumped off the swing and ran to him.
He picked her up and held out a hand to Jodie. “Let’s go.”
Jodie nodded and took his hand, walking with him back to where he’d left the car.
Amy stood there. Was it something she’d done? Maybe she’d done the wrong thing in coming out with them. Should she follow or stay here?
Dane glanced over his shoulder. “Come on,” he said in a don’t-mess-with-me tone.
Amy followed
slowly.
He didn’t speak to her the entire drive home. Dinner was just as silent, not even Jodie dared say anything. Dane sat there, seething as he ate. Finally, he stood and beckoned to Vicky. “Bedtime.”
Amy watched him exit the room with Vicky and sighed. Leaving the dishes where they were, she put on her coat and went for a walk in the rain. She liked it here. She loved the kids, and the way Dane interacted with them, no matter how tired he was. She just wished she knew what she’d done.
Dane sat in the lounge. He’d put the girls to bed and come down to talk to Amy to find her gone. Not even a note. On the plus side, she’d only taken her bag and coat, so he was hopeful that she would be back at some point. Did he text her? Or did he leave it a little longer? He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. It had been a lousy day, and he really didn’t need this on top of everything else. Finally, the front door opened and closed. Footsteps crossed the hall. He stood and walked to the doorway. “Amy, can I have a word?”
Her hair stuck to her head in rat’s tails, dripping onto her shoulders. “Can I just change first? It’s chucking it down out there, and my coat isn’t as waterproof as I thought it was. I’ll be five minutes.”
“OK.” He went back into the lounge and put the TV on. He tried to focus on the program, but his mind was too caught up with other things. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, not sure how to say what he needed to. He still felt married. He didn’t need the growing attraction to the nanny, never mind any affection she bore towards him, however inappropriate it might be, and he certainly wasn’t about to—
Amy came in, wearing a tracksuit that showed off her figure beautifully, towel dried hair falling over her shoulders.
Dane mentally shook himself. Now wasn’t the time to be admiring how pretty she was. He couldn’t go that route. Couldn’t and shouldn’t. So why did he want to more than anything?
