by Ryan Casey
After football we played some Nintendo for a while. It was a shooting game. I was the cop. While we played, I wondered how I could be so cool about the whole thing, so detached. If things got really bad, we could always tell the police. That was always an option. But right now it was our mystery.
‘Righto, lads, I’m heading off. If you’re not ready, tough,’ Granddad called from the living room.
‘Keep your voice down, Dean, unless you want everyone to hear you,’ Gran said.
Adam and I emerged from the bedroom. The familiar tang of Gran’s spicy microwave lasagne was thick in the air. I put my scruffy trainers on while Adam slipped on his Nikes—one of the last things his parents had ever bought for him. How could he wear them all the time, knowing that fact? I never said anything to him about it though. The last time Granddad mentioned something about his shoes to him, Adam flipped.
‘I don’t care—just let me wear what I want. They’re my feet, not yours.’
The bickering was a regular thing, but it was to be expected. Adam was young and had just lost his parents. The way they’d gone wasn’t nice. It was strange hearing about the incident on the news, and it must have been especially strange for Adam after being thrust into living with two grandparents he’d previously had no real chance to bond with. It was new territory for him, and as hard as my situation was, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for Adam. I still had the choice of seeing both my parents, for now. He’d never get that choice again.
We left Gran in the kitchen. As we walked across the grey stones of our driveway, I wondered how Gran kept herself entertained. Adam and I might have had to deal with witnessing a girl being buried, but at least we didn’t have to wash up all the time or do a crossword with loads of big words that didn’t really make much sense. It wasn’t like there was even a big prize or anything, not that Gran had ever won. She always sent off her finished crossword with the hope that she’d get a reward tumbling through the letterbox one day, but that never seemed to happen.
Adam stormed ahead down the road past Mrs. Stevens’ caravan. I jogged forward and caught up with him. ‘Slow down, Ad. We don’t want Granddad suspecting we’re up to anything.’
‘I’m just a fast walker.’
‘I know, but we need Granddad to think we’re just here to look for Carla with him. He can’t suspect anything. Not yet.’
Adam soon saw sense and staggered back towards Granddad, holding his head down.
‘I was worried you were gonna leave me trailing behind for a sec,’ Granddad said. Although he was well into his seventies, he was quite a fast walker, not like some of the other old people around the area. Kenny, whose caravan was on the road parallel to ours, used to be the one man we’d try our best to avoid, mainly because he slowed us all down. Even Granddad got a bit of a jog on at the sight of him stepping out of his drive. I remember once, when I was here without Adam, a walk that should’ve taken twenty minutes ended up lasting a whole hour because of Kenny. Even Carla got frustrated. Kenny was nice, though. He had a lot of garden features and cut hedges into weird shapes like dolphins. He took real good care of his garden.
The three of us soon reached the place where the road met the steps, spiralling down to the wasteground. We could see the road of Emily’s caravan, Donald’s caravan on the road parallel, and his cabin just inside the entrance of the woods. Goosebumps crept up my neck as I looked towards the woods. Seeing the woods and the cabin and being out here again—it made it all so real.
As we walked past Emily’s caravan, I noticed her mum outside, cigarette in mouth. She fidgeted with her hair and her hands. She had small eyes and big pointy cheekbones, and she didn’t spend much time outside the caravan. Although I’d met her a few times, I sometimes wondered if she even recognised either of us at all. She half-smiled at us before shuffling up the step, her weedy arms pulling the caravan door open. She threw her cigarette to the floor and shuddered in every direction, her eyes looking all around her.
She stamped out the cigarette and disappeared through the door.
I thought I saw the curtain at the back of the caravan move, but then again, that could’ve just been my eyes.
Donald’s cabin stared down at us like a cat watching a mouse from a distance. Perhaps something inside that cabin could lead us to the root of the secret.
Adam frowned towards the cabin and then in the general direction of Donald’s caravan. What exactly were we hoping to discover? We were so set on uncovering some big mystery that we hadn’t even taken the time to talk about what exactly it was we were looking to find out.
I took a mental note of the cabin, remembering to mention to Adam later that we should try to investigate it one way or another. Judging by the look on his face, totally focused and unbroken, I figured he probably had the same idea anyway.
Granddad didn’t say too much, which was probably for the best. Everything he did say seemed to get on Adam’s nerves.
‘So, do you boys not go play in that ‘play-den’ of yours anymore?’ he asked.
Adam turned his nose up. ‘It’s not a ‘play-den’ and we don’t play in it. It’s an office, where we work.’
Granddad rolled his eyes. ‘Oh I’m sorry, your office. Have you not done any work in there lately? You lads seem to always be around the van these days. And Emily too—you don’t see her as much. You haven’t fallen out have you?’
Neither me or Adam were in a mood for small talk, but I smiled at Granddad and shook my head. He did raise a good point though. We hadn’t been to our den in days. In fact, I’d managed to walk past it without even realising it.
There were more important things at hand right now. The only thing that mattered was the dead girl.
*
We spent a good half hour following Granddad through the woods, but there was no sign of Carla. I flinched at every movement in the woods, and Adam’s eyes scanned the trees reluctantly. We turned around and headed out from the trees when I saw Donald’s road up ahead. Hopefully we could get back to the caravan before we ran into him.
‘We’ll head this way, boys,’ Granddad said, gesturing towards the top path.
My chest tightened. Donald’s road.
‘But… can’t we just go the normal way?’ I asked. My throat itched. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to confront Donald anymore.
Granddad squished his eyebrows together and looked at me, smiling. ‘What’s got into you? We’ll head this way. See if anyone’s seen any sign of Carla.’
My heart began to pound again. I looked at Adam, whose eyes gaped. He nodded. Deep breath. I had to keep my cool. Calm it, Liam.
We turned the corner onto Donald’s road, and of course, there he was. He sat on his knees, squeezing a soapy sponge up against his car. His glasses balanced on his nose, and his head tilted downwards, hiding those eyes.
As we walked past, I begged Granddad not to say anything. Just keep walking. Just keep walking.
‘Evening, Mr. Stanton,’ Granddad said. My stomach sank, and Adam’s eyes shifted towards the ground.
Donald raised his head, his hand partially submerged in the bucket of soapy water in front of him, some of which had splashed onto his mould-green fleece. I realised Adam had stopped walking completely. I ground to a halt like a car running out of fuel.
I waited for his eyes to meet mine. I waited for that look. The look of understanding. That warning look to stay well away or we’d end up sleeping with the rotting animals and the ants and the dead girl. My hands twitched by my side.
The look never came.
Donald rose to his feet and paced towards us, his eyes dancing between the three of us with no real focus point. There was no malice and no venom on his face.
‘Hello, Dean. And hello, boys,’ he said, rubbing his hands together, soap dripping towards the ground. ‘I haven’t seen you in days. Where the devil have you been?’
I tried to look towards Adam, but my neck wouldn’t let me. I froze on the spot. I wanted to let it
all out at him, right there. I wanted to stare in his eyes and tell him everything we had seen. The digging. The greying skin of her body. Her eyes. His eyes. I wanted so much to tell Granddad right there and for him to believe us and phone the police. It’d be like Scooby Doo, when the baddie always blasted the ‘meddling kids’ at the end. Scooby and Shaggy would just smirk. I wanted to be able to smirk.
‘We’re good, thanks. Been busy putting a few cases together at the caravan so haven’t been out much.’
I blinked as I turned to look at Adam. My mind raced. The words sounded foreign as they left Adam’s mouth. He stood with his shoulders out wide, looking directly into Donald’s eyes. How he could be so cool after what we’d seen?
‘Well, I expect I’ll be seeing you all out and about more often now you’ve cracked your case, eh?’ Donald said, looking in my direction with a half-smile on his face, hunting for approval.
‘Yeah, probably,’ I said. ‘Like Adam said. Just been—just been a bit busy. Y’know, solving things.’ Every word sounded croaky as it left my throat.
‘When they say solving things, they mean booting that old ball against the wall and conspiring,’ Granddad interrupted with a cynical grin.
‘We were all that age once I suppose, eh Dean?’ Donald sniggered.
‘This lot are so lucky with their Playboxes and GameStations. We had to go out and make a living right from the primary school days. Wasn’t any mystery solving for us on a Saturday afternoon.’
‘Speak for yourself, old man!’
Granddad laughed. ‘Cheeky so and so! Right, come on boys, we’ve got a runaway dog to find.’
‘Still no sign of her, eh?’ Donald asked.
‘Not even a trace. It’s almost as if she’s completely vanished. Anne holds out hopes that she’ll still turn up, but I’m not too sure myself.’
Adam punched Granddad in the top of his leg. ‘She will turn up, one way or another,’ he said, before looking intently in Donald’s direction. ‘We’ll find her, if it’s the last thing we do.’
*
Back at the caravan, I still couldn’t quite get my head round the exchange between Granddad and Donald. The two of them chatted, joked, and laughed like old friends. Adam had managed to keep his cool, manoeuvring his way out of a potentially sticky situation. And what had I done? Stood still, almost blowing our cover completely.
I sat on the edge of the sofa and looked up at my granddad. He had his huge reading glasses on; the ones that made my eyes go all blurry when I tried them on. Adam put them on once trying to do his best impression of his head teacher, but Granddad wasn’t pleased. Adam’s dad found it funny. I didn’t see his dad much but when I did he laughed at a lot of things that adults didn’t usually find funny. I wondered if he was odd and had some sort of condition, and maybe that’s why he’d killed himself. Otherwise, he seemed a pretty happy man. He had a nice wife and a kid. Plus, why would anyone want to be dead?
I thought about the girl.
Her skin stuck in my head like an eel that had lost its colour, specks of dirt scattered around like mouldy chewing gum on a pavement.
Her eyes. Big, beautiful, and dead.
I wondered if Adam’s parents’ eyes were the same when they let the water hit the bottom of their lungs or whether they’d closed them. I think if I knew I was going to die, I’d close my eyes. I wouldn’t want to leave a mark on anyone who saw me, like the girl had with us.
Chapter Ten
The following day, I came close to telling Granddad everything.
Gran was round next door chatting with Mrs. Jeeves, who had discovered some new species of butterfly, or something silly like that. Adam was in his room, playing on his Game Boy.
‘Granddad,’ I said.
His head was buried in the latest Stephen King book. He had read them all, making sure to buy the latest one at Waterstones every summer.
‘Granddad,’ I repeated, a little louder.
‘Yes, yes?’ he said, sticking his head up like a meerkat.
I took a deep breath and tried to stop my voice from cracking. ‘If you saw something really bad… like, really bad, but something you didn’t know how to deal with, what would you do?’
Granddad kept his eyes focused on his book and cleared his throat. ‘I’m not quite sure I know what you mean, Liam.’
‘It—it doesn’t really matter. Just, if you saw something, something secret… but something important, would you tell anyone?’
Granddad put his book down and leaned towards me. ‘Liam, we can’t stick our noses in everybody else’s business. But if there is something you’ve seen, or heard, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?’
Granddad raised his eyebrows as he looked at me. I tried not to look back at him directly. What was he talking about? He hadn’t heard Adam and I talking about what we’d seen, had he?
‘Is this about Adam?’ he said.
‘What? No, I… well.’ I felt the tension rush out of my body. My head felt much lighter. I could lie.
‘He’s okay isn’t he? You would tell me or your gran if you saw him… doing anything, wouldn’t you? Just it’s really, really difficult for him right now. It’s difficult for all of us. We’re staying as strong as we can for Adam, Liam. It’s really hard.’ Granddad lifted his hand to his chin and rubbed at it. His eyes looked red and watery.
‘Granddad, I… I mean, you’re okay aren’t you?’
He reached back for his book. A shaky smile flickered across his face. ‘I’m alright, I’m alright,’ he said, before returning to the world of his book. I could see from the speed at which his eyes scanned the lines that he wasn’t really reading.
I pictured Gran and Granddad cuddling each other after another day of having to face everybody. It must be hard for them, too.
Gran walked back into the van at that point and looked at both of us. She had a sort of understanding look on her face, the way her eyes met both of ours. She smiled halfheartedly and turned towards the kitchen. ‘Who fancies a trip to the beach today?’ she asked, her back to us all.
Had she been crying too? I never thought about her crying before. Now I couldn’t seem to help it.
*
We headed off to Emily’s place shortly after. Granddad and Gran waited by the steps as we ran up towards Emily’s caravan. I looked up towards where Donald’s van was and shuddered. The mouth of the woods was in front of us too, staring back. It felt like it wanted to pull us in.
‘Come on, let’s get this done with,’ I said.
Adam stopped and waited by the hedge near Emily’s caravan.
‘What you doing?’ I asked.
He looked at the floor. ‘I think I’d better wait here.’
‘What are you on about?’
I remembered their words the other day as Adam lifted his head and looked up at me reluctantly.
‘Oh come on, Adam. She won’t mind. We’ve had a lot going on. She won’t remember all that.’
Adam looked up at me again and nodded. ‘If you say so.’
I walked towards the door, Adam still lingering behind. As I knocked, the door opened and Emily answered.
‘Hiya,’ she said, grinning. She sounded out of breath with excitement.
‘Hey, Emily…’ I turned to Adam. ‘First off, he’s sorry— we’re sorry. About yesterday.’
She looked towards me with a blank expression and wide eyes. ‘Oh, that doesn’t matter. Just glad to see you.’ She smiled at me. Her eyes felt warm when they met mine. I grew more edgy as we held our stare.
‘So erm, you wanna come to the beach?’ Adam asked.
‘What’s that, Adam? Speak up!’
I bit my tongue and tried to stop myself from laughing. Adam went a bright shade of pink.
‘Um, you wanna come to the beach with us now?’
Emily nodded. ‘Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll ask my parents.’
She disappeared inside and we waited at the door. There was some heated conversation. Her dad interrogated her, and her mu
m told her to make sure she was back in an hour.
‘They seriously need to chill out,’ Adam said.
‘Don’t let her hear you say that again,’ I replied. ‘Not after the fuss she kicked up last time.’
Emily came back to her door a few minutes later, slipped into her wellies, and skipped up the road towards my gran and granddad.
The beach trip was okay but wasn’t the same without Carla.
‘So, the person who can throw the stone the furthest is the biggest loser,’ Emily said, standing on top of a large grassy area. Gran and Granddad brought the portable chairs down with them, where they’d prepared a picnic for us. The salt of the sea air tickled my nostrils.
Adam sniggered. ‘Don’t you mean whoever throws it the nearest is the biggest loser?’
‘No, I mean whoever throws the furthest. That way, you’re bound to be the biggest loser.’
Adam reached down and scooped sand all over Emily. She laughed and ran away with Adam in pursuit. I smiled and turned back to Gran and Granddad, then bit into a cheese sandwich. Dairylea, my favourite.
‘So, how’s things, kiddo?’ Granddad asked. I felt a little stumped by his question.
‘What with?’ I replied.
‘You know. Carla going. How you two taking everything?’
I thought of the way the body lay beside its hidden grave. Would things have been less complicated if it had been Carla’s body we’d found? There’d be nothing to hide. We could confront Donald. Not like with a girl, a dead girl.
‘Liam?’ Granddad asked. I realised I’d been daydreaming and had ignored his question.
‘We’re managing,’ I said. ‘Just hope she comes back, y’know? Things will be better then.’
Granddad looked on and nodded. Gran smiled as the breeze hit her face.
‘Have a bit of faith, son,’ Gran said. ‘She’ll come back.’
I gulped. Even if she did come back, her return would never replace what we saw.
*
That evening, my granddad’s mobile phone, which Gran hated him using, buzzed into life on top of the television. Nobody had his number except family members and salespeople, so the tension grew in my stomach as soon as it rang. Maybe it was Donald? No, stupid thought. We sat round the table, and Gran glanced at me and Adam as Granddad continued to power through his biscuits.
