When Ryan moved away again, he said, ‘So you avenged your mother then.’
Tommy’s expression changed, ‘What? What do you know about that?’
Standing in the large entry hall, their voices carried well. Juliet felt almost like they were on a theatre stage.
‘I don’t know much. Just that she disappeared, and that Aldrich had something to do with it. I recognised you three when I walked in here.’ Ryan’s voice was as coarse as his stubble.
Nick kept his suspicious eyes on Ryan. Tom seemed to be listening intently, but he fixedly looked down to the side.
‘I was about… twenty, I think, when Aldrich made me work for him. He took a fancy to me, showed me what he could do to people. I was afraid. A couple of years later, I saw on the news about your mother’s disappearance. And… and I saw your father on tele. Aldrich made me keep an eye on your family. He was scared, and I’d never seen him scared before that. He made me keep tabs on you lot for a good few years.’
‘You didn’t go to the police?’ Tom asked, no judgement in his voice.
‘Of course I didn’t. Aldrich would have killed me, and then tricked the police. For some reason he was afraid of you three boys. I… I didn’t have a choice.’
‘How do you remember all of this?’ Nick looked impatient and worried; he tapped his fingers together. ‘Did he not use his ability on you?’
‘No, I don’t think. But, all my memories could be fake, to be honest. He could have made me do anything, but if he did, I don’t have any gaps.’ Ryan squinted, ‘I can’t believe he’s dead.’
Juliet stood, dumbfounded, and watched them talk. She was appalled by how casually they talked about murder; they even seemed happy in fact. Ryan still had the skill to send shivers down her spine. Creep. This was the most she’d ever seen him talk. When he’d picked Kim up the other night, he was curt and short in words.
Harry! She remembered the spirit that visited her in the kitchen. Don’t trust Ryan. Ryan’s not who he says he is.
‘You had Aldrich kill Harry, didn’t you? Harry Cracknel?’ she threw piercing eyes at Ryan. He shifted on the spot; the shotgun swayed at his side.
‘How do you know about Harry?’ he asked, hesitantly.
Juliet shook her head in horror, and let out a tense breath.
‘Kim told me that they were head over heels with each other, then out of the blue he dumped her. He said he never wanted to see her again, amongst some other nasty words, and then vanished from her life.’
‘Errh…’
‘You had Aldrich use his trick on Harry to make him dump her. Then you killed him, and made him disappear, like you both made Samantha Crystan disappear.’
‘I… I love Kim. I wanted her for myself.’ he fumbled on his words. ‘I spent too much time with Aldrich. I was younger then. He told me my job had to have some perks, and he wanted me as a companion. He was extremely old and lonely… He told me that he never wanted to use his ability on me.’
‘Stop talking about Aldrich! It’s not about Aldrich.’ Juliet yelled, ‘Why should I let Kim stay with a murderer? I should tell her about you. You know…’ she laughed bitterly, ‘Kim thinks you’re such a sweetheart doing support work!’
‘Don’t tell her, please. Aldrich paid me a lot… I have money. I can give her everything she wants. And… and…’ he paused and looked at the dried blood on the floor, ‘Where’s Aldrich’s body? I can help you out.’
Nick butted in, ‘Hold on. Who’s Kim? Who’s Harry? And how do you two know each other?’
Juliet clenched her teeth. She didn’t want to talk to any of the Crystan boys. She sucked up her pride and speedily explained how she knew Ryan.
Ryan asked again, ‘Where’s Aldrich’s body?’
Tom looked up and told Ryan where the body was, and how to find it.
‘Juliet,’ Ryan started, ‘I’ll clean up Grendel Manor; I’ll get rid of all the evidence and dispose of his body if you promise not to tell Kim anything? Please, I love her. I did what I did because I was young and, and, I was afraid of Aldrich, and… Kim was beautiful.’
As input, Tommy said, ‘Sounds like a good deal to me.’
It was obvious to Juliet that Ryan deeply loved (or was at least unhealthily obsessed with) Kim, but could she let her best friend stay with a man like Ryan? Did she have a choice? She simply wanted to get away from it all. Her body ached and was most likely bruised all over.
‘This may be the best option we have, Juliet.’ Nick said. ‘But can we trust him?’
‘You can trust me.’ Ryan said in a desperate tone. ‘I’m in your debt. You’ve saved me from having to work for Aldrich for the rest of my life.’
‘I’ll trust you if Juliet trusts you.’ Nick made clear.
Is that meant to flatter me, Nicolas?
Juliet’s mind was hell; Don’t trust Ryan. But I have to; how else will we get out of this? What about Kim? She can’t stay in a relationship built on blood and lies. But, I don’t want her to go through the pain of breaking up with her boyfriend of four years! And Nicolas, I was falling for him, but now all I see is his murderous brother, and Aldrich’s gruesome body.
She hated it; she strongly believed that telling the truth was the moral thing to do. But now she had no choice but to lie to her best friend. What would Ryan do if she took Kim away from him? Would anyone here be safe?
I have to get away from this place.
‘We can trust him.’ she decided.
Ryan said in a whispery relieved voice, ‘Thank you.’
‘Okay then, let’s leave this place.’ Nick nodded at Ryan, and headed to the front door. The twins followed, but Juliet waited.
‘You better treat Kim like royalty.’ she threw at Ryan.
‘I will, I swear.’
He looked down at his feet. His shifty eyes were too creepy on that pale, blemished face. Juliet would never know what Kim saw in him. Ryan kept his head lowered but peered at Juliet, and smiled. From the angle he was at, it was almost like a sneer, but Juliet cautiously gave a neutral look to him.
As she exited Grendel Manor, she felt that awful paranoia again, like earlier when she’d realised that she’d left the shotgun on the step and when she pondered if leaving the twins with Aldrich was a good idea or not.
Was it another mistake to trust Ryan?
She sure hoped not.
She got in Nick’s car. Tom and Tommy were already in the back, so she sat in the front.
‘Just take me back to Chanton.’ she said.
Chapter 19
Small, rough stones flung into the air as Nick pulled away in his black Vauxhall Corsa. Parked on the gravel area was a silver Peugeot 206; it hadn’t been there when they’d arrived so it must have belonged to Ryan.
Nick drove fast over the private road then towards Chanton.
Juliet, Tom and Tommy were silent. The tension in the car was palpable. Nick was angry at Tommy for always affronting him; he repeatedly reminded himself to cool down, drive safely.
The mixture of sadness and anger, guilt and fear, and shock and grief was cruel. Juliet can’t stand to look at me. He glanced sideways at her but she stared out the car window into the dark.
He realised that he ached to walk to the edge of the cliff and see where it was that Aldrich pushed over his mum’s body inside of her car. It would be like visiting her grave. But now it was too late. He could never return to Grendel Manor.
The silence was thick. As he drove, the shadowy, wiry trees of the roadside taunted him. He finally knew what had happened to his mum, but was anything any easier now? Was he any happier?
Chanton was in view. ‘Stop here.’ Juliet said in a cold voice.
It was still a long walk to Chanton from where they were, ‘I can drive you closer.’ Nick said sheepishly.
‘I said stop here.’
He pulled over and Juliet opened the door and stepped out. She arched over and looked inside the car, not quite at Nick, but distantly past him.
S
he said, ‘Delete my number. If anything ever leads back to me, I am placing everything on you three. I never want to see you again.’ Her voice started out solid, but Nick thought he detected a crack towards the end.
With a slam of the door she walked away.
‘Yuh definitely ain’t gettin’ any now.’ Tommy commented.
Nick swung his head around, ‘You can walk back to Amiton if you carry on.’ he spat the words.
‘Urgh. Chill out.’ Tommy puffed his chest and let it go, then looked away angrily.
Nick started the car back up. He drove towards Amiton. His eyes welled a little at the thought of Juliet’s strict words. Did she mean it? He looked at the moon, hazily visible through island clouds. He didn’t know why, but gazing up at the moon gave him a sense of hope.
Maybe things weren’t so bad? He barely knew her anyway. And Aldrich was dead. They were off the hook.
When he pulled into the drive of his dad’s house, he turned to face his brothers in the back. ‘Please don’t tell Dad anything about this yet.’ he said, quiet, ‘I’m not ordering you around so don’t be annoyed, Tommy, but we have to be delicate about this. Dad needs to know so that he can finally move on. He deserves to know, but I think we should all tell him together, okay?’
Tom nodded and then Tommy did too,
Nick half smiled and said, ‘Thank you, I’ll come over in a couple of days and we’ll talk to him. We all need time to clear our heads first, so we can talk to him sensibly.’
‘Yeah,’ Tommy grumbled, ‘and I’m starvin’.’
The mention of food made Nick’s stomach grumble. He hadn’t had any lunch and it was early evening now. He grimaced at the sudden pain in his belly.
‘Me too.’ he replied. ‘Oh yeah, Tommy, your arm… hide that scab from Dad. And your jacket, the sleeve is torn off.’
Tommy fidgeted taking the jacket off completely then bundled it up to hide the torn part. ‘I’ll chuck out my jacket and I dunno, tell him I cut myself at college.’ he laughed a bit dopily, ‘I liked this jacket.’ he manoeuvred the passenger seat in front of him and hunkered out of the car. Nick watched him walk towards the front door.
Before getting out the car, Tom leant close to Nick, ‘Can I come over your house later? I still need to talk to you. After everything today I just want to get it off my chest.’ he said plainly.
Nick had almost forgotten about Tom’s personal matter, ‘Yeah, that’s fine. I’m going to eat first and shower. Do you want me to pick you up?’
‘No, I’ll drive over. Text me when you’re ready. I like to drive. It helps me think.’ he got out of the car and gently closed the passenger-side door.
Although the drive back had been awkwardly quiet, it really did seem silent now. Nick reversed out of his dad’s drive and headed home. He arrived within a couple of minutes.
The trees that shrouded the front garden reminded him of the woods on Aldrich’s land. He hurried out of the car and got inside as soon as possible. The first thing he did was strip off his clothes. They were filthy, stained with mud and grass.
When he caught himself in the mirror, he gasped at the bruising that covered his naked body. The longer he stared at it, the more it hurt. He tried to cheer himself up by laughing about it. I look like a rainbow.
He put his clothes in the washing machine and ran a shower. The shower was a place of thought, and he didn’t wish to think just yet. He wanted to be clean, have some food and have everything back to normal.
Lathering every inch of his body, he hummed a random tune to distract his mind until he rinsed himself down, stepped out and dried his body. He tried hard to ignore the sheer agony of the bruises.
He found some new clothes to wear: a baggy hoody and joggers to lounge around in. Then he pecked at a bag of crisps while he microwaved a tomato and cheese pasta bake meal.
When his stomach was full and bloatedly sick from how fast he ate, he plodded to the snug and flumped down onto a beanbag chair.
The ceiling was discoloured and needed repainting. He stared up at it and let his eyes close. Sleep took him but he awoke an hour later. He checked the time on his mobile to make sure he hadn’t overslept, and to see if Tom had text him yet.
The nap refreshed him, so now really was the time to think.
The tears came. Mum… He cried for twenty minutes straight, staring at an imaginary pit of darkness where hope didn’t and couldn’t exist. On the edge, he could have easily slipped in.
Not yet, no.
He’d been there before. Depression. He knew that forlorn place; it had a paradoxical comfort to it, the safety in hiding away from life, not being able to face the day; succeeding in not failing by not even trying, or was it failing to fail, or failing to try, or…?... he shouldn’t want that relationship with Depression again; he’d been on the steady climb.
No, it’s too easy to be depressed.
But he stayed close to the pit for now. They’d been long-time huggers after all.
His mind lingered.
I never want to see you again. He hadn’t realised how much he wanted to meet a nice woman until he met Juliet. He’d avoided serious relationships for a long time, and now that he wanted one, he couldn’t have it with the woman he desired.
Sullenly, he thought, Janet Morgan could always set me up with someone, like she said she could.
An image of the glistening portal came to his mind. What was that thing? He thought about the children. The portal had saved them from being sacrificed into fire, but where were they? They’d still been taken from their parents, and what was on the other side? Was it really better on that side?
He imagined all the things that could have been in the Otherworld: exotic beings, magic, fantastical landscapes, deities, ghosts, demons, fairies, all types of mythical creatures. Or maybe he was getting carried away again. Maybe it was another pit of no hope in the Otherworld. But if there were other beings on that side, then what use did they have for human children?
The portal’s gone; it buried itself, there’s no point thinking about it.
Even with the portal gone, he made a spur-of-the-moment promise to himself: if he ever found another way to the Otherworld, then he would try to find Katie Baker and discover the fate of the other children who vanished over the years.
He plodded on to pondering the life of Aldrich. Was he immortal? He’d hinted that he was extremely old… Nick almost wished that Aldrich was alive. Aldrich and Juliet were the only other people with paranormal abilities that he knew about. Now he couldn’t talk to either of them.
Then his heart twanged, reminding him of how Aldrich murdered his mother. He screwed up his face and said mentally, I’m glad he’s dead. He can’t ruin any more lives now. I’m glad.
Did he regret not killing Aldrich himself? I, erm, no, I’m not a murderer. Tommy did what Nick couldn’t morally do. If Tommy had murdered an innocent person, Nick would have wanted nothing to do with him… but this was Aldrich, and that made it almost acceptable, right? Though, he wasn’t sure if he could look at Tommy in the same way ever again.
He stopped thinking for a moment and walked around the house. He marched frantically, burning off whatever emotional chemicals that coursed through his body. Thursday was a few days away, and Caroline could help him understand his thoughts, yes, but no, she couldn’t, how could he tell her about these things? No way.
With a return to the beanbag chair, he text Tom to let him know he could come over. Tom replied and said he’d be there in fifteen minutes.
Nick was tempted to try bring on a vision of the future. He knew now that he could do it at will. It worked before. Actually… it didn’t work, it was inaccurate and Aldrich wasn’t where Nick saw him in the vision. Nick did see his brothers though… and they did come along, so he was right about that. Also, dreams were a way of seeing the future. Through imagery, but it was an extra layer to his ability at least.
I’m an Oracle. He recalled the portal’s words. If the portal recognised him, then di
d that mean there were others like him? Were they on the other side? Am I AN Oracle or THE Oracle? It was exciting; his mind riled itself up, he was about to jiggle in the beanbag chair apprehensively, but soon began to worry about it, stepped closer to the pit.
Could he be in danger because the portal recognised him? He had no idea what the beings on the other side thought towards Oracles or The Oracle or whatever.
Worry did its usual thing and brought with itself more material to torment him with. He mulled over whether Ryan could be trusted to adequately destroy evidence. It seemed too good to be true; the way he conveniently showed up.
Then Nick gave up ruminating things. He came to a conclusion.
He decided that more mysteries had been opened up than solved, but that’s life; he couldn’t always find closure for everything.
All this time he’d been trying to force peace upon himself. Most the self-help and spiritual programmes that he’d practiced taught acceptance and non-judgement, but it had never truly sunk in.
In his reflective mood, he remembered a time when he sat on a pebbled beach to the south of Lansin Island. On the beach, he was cross-legged and held his palm facing upwards. In the centre of his palm he placed a perfectly spherical pebble. He wobbled his hand side to side so that the pebble bounced around, and he observed the way he could feel its evenly distributed weight. There was a kind of symmetry to it all, the little stone would roll and jump about in his moving hand but always return to the centre in the end. Even when he fiercely shook his hand, he could sense if he’d rocked the boat too much and if the pebble would fall away or not. Maybe land in the pit.
Right now, he saw himself as that pebble, and his life as the palm. Before the vision of Juliet falling to her death, he’d worked hard to find balance. He was sure that the right mixture of self-help exercises and a degree of ‘enlightenment’ would keep him in that centre. Then he had the premonition and his life shook more wildly; he was in danger of going over the edge. Finding out that paranormal abilities were real, that there was an Otherworld, discovering how his mum was murdered, falling for Juliet so suddenly, coming close to murdering Aldrich… the pebble hopped around like mad.
A Death Displaced Page 19
