… Gordon got in his car at 11:27 a.m. and drove off …
… Penny Sullivan is next door. She’s talking to Mr. Charles and every now and then she pats him on the arm …
… Gordon dropped a large box off at our house. It looks like Mum and Dad have been ordering from Penny’s stupid catalog again …
I looked back further, to the night after Teddy went missing, and I stopped. My heart was pounding in my ears.
… I can’t believe Mum has agreed to let that creepy kid, Casey, stay at our house tonight. I got up at 2:18 a.m. and she was stirring in her sleep. “The old lady’s got him, Goldfish Boy,” she said. Could Old Nina have Teddy?
But Old Nina wasn’t the only old lady in the street.
I reached for the Harrington’s catalog and quickly found the pages covered with pen scratchings. The lines stretched from one side to the other, crazy haphazard scrawls that cut across the descriptions of the products and the photographs. But now, as I looked at it again, it didn’t look so angry. Some of the lines were swirls and loops, some curled around and around, and although it was messy, it certainly wasn’t menacing. And it didn’t look like something my mum would have done. In fact, it didn’t look like anything an adult would have done. It looked like a child’s innocent scribble.
I stood up. The curtains of number one were being drawn and I saw the hall light switch on. My breaths were coming in quick pants and I took a moment to take a slow, deep breath.
To: Melody Bird
From: Matthew Corbin
Subject: Number One
Penny and Gordon have been acting peculiar …
I stopped and deleted the message. This time I wasn’t going to say anything. Not until I was sure.
I went out onto the landing. Dad was still in my room. I could hear his paintbrush scratching against the wall.
I went downstairs. Mum was doing some ironing in the conservatory. She looked up and her eyes had dark rings circling them.
“You okay, Matthew?”
I stopped at the doorway.
“Mum. Have you spoken to Penny lately?”
“Penny? No, not today. I know all this Teddy business has been really distressing for Gordon. She said his blood pressure has rocketed up what with all the searches. He’s got to be careful because of his heart, so they’re going to try and go away for a bit.”
Mum put the iron down.
“What’s the matter, Matthew? You’ve gone white.”
“When? When are they going?”
Mum shrugged.
“I don’t know. She hasn’t said. Soon, I think. She said they’re hoping to be away for a few weeks at least.”
She walked to the sink to fill the iron with more water. I went to the front door and took some slow, deep breaths. If I thought about it too much I wouldn’t go, so I had to be quick before the anxiety took hold of me. I bent down and put my shoes on, my head pounding.
“I just need to go out for a bit. I’ll be back soon,” I said to Mum and I shut the door behind me before she could ask any questions.
Looking across at number one, I took the Wallpaper Lion’s eye out of my pocket and tucked it into my palm for safety. For my safety. Trying not to hold my breath, I crossed the road toward Penny and Gordon’s.
The television was on, blaring loudly, and I could see the screen flickering behind the curtains.
I checked their car, looking for any signs of Teddy. The seats were immaculately clean. A green air freshener in the shape of a palm tree dangled from the rearview mirror, and there was a local road map in the compartment of the passenger door. In front of the gear stick there was a tub of mints and a blue cloth that Gordon probably used to wipe the windshield. I checked the backseat. Nothing was out of place apart from a box of tissues lying on the floor. I walked around to the passenger side so that I could see the storage pocket on the driver’s door. The plastic handle of something poked out of the top, probably an ice scraper, and an old newspaper. Something bright orange caught my eye underneath the passenger’s seat. I couldn’t quite see what it was, so I moved around to the hood and leaned across the windshield, cupping my hands around my eyes.
Beneath the passenger seat was a small, orange bulldozer. The plastic bulldozer that Penny had picked up from the pile of toys in Mr. Charles’s garden.
Pushing myself upright from the car, I heard a brief double click.
“Oh no!”
The headlights began to flash on and off and the horn beeped repeatedly. I’d set off the car alarm. I froze for a moment, then ran toward the pavement just as the door of number one opened.
“Matthew? Is that you? What are you doing?”
Penny fumbled with her car keys, then pressed the fob, and the alarm stopped.
“Sorry, I-I just … I accidentally knocked the car and …”
I turned as if to go.
“But what did you want? You didn’t come over here just to set off our car alarm, surely?”
I took a couple of steps toward her, taking a second to study her appearance. She pulled the front door behind her a little and folded her arms, guarding the entrance, just like I do when I don’t want anyone in my room. Her hair was pinned back neatly in the usual style. Her clothes, a pale pink blouse and a sky blue skirt, were as smart as always. She looked calm, and there was no sign of stress or strain on her face—apart from the annoyance at having me standing on her driveway.
“Well, what is it? What do you want, Matthew?”
“I, erm. Mum said you’re going away.”
She blinked at me.
“And I wondered if you needed anything done while you’re gone. Watering your plants? Drawing your curtains? Delivering your catalogs? That kind of thing.”
I felt myself flushing. I wouldn’t believe me either.
Half of Gordon’s face appeared at the door, and the one eye that I could see widened when he saw me.
“What’s going on?” he whispered.
She practically pushed him back inside, and I could hear her muffled words behind the door.
“It’s fine, Gordon. Matthew was just leaving.”
She reappeared, patting the front of her hair.
“Thank you, Matthew. That’s very kind of you to offer, but there’s no need. Everything is in order.” And with that she stepped inside and closed the door.
When I got back home I went straight to the kitchen and found Detective Bradley’s business card stuck to our fridge beneath a magnet in the shape of a deck chair. I could hear Mum upstairs running a bath. Dad was putting his decorating things back into the shed.
I stared at the policeman’s number and then at the phone, which was lying on its side, thinking about what I could say to him.
Penny and Gordon have got him because she took a toy bulldozer?
I haven’t seen them together since he went missing?
Gordon is looking a bit stressed?
They’re planning a long vacation?
It was like Old Nina all over again. I had no solid proof.
And anyway, the phone’s earpiece was a tiny square of mesh that looked dirty and infected. The phone looked like something that could easily kill you. So I left it where it was.
I’d lost the Wallpaper Lion’s eye.
Somehow, while I’d been investigating at Penny and Gordon’s house, I’d dropped it, probably when I’d set the car alarm off. I’d looked out the window for any sign of it, but it was hard to see anything in the fading light. I’d lost him completely.
I had a fitful night’s sleep on my mattress, on the floor in the office. I dreamed that someone was standing behind me, tapping me on my back. I turned around to see who it was, but they’d disappeared. When I woke up it was dark and a spring from my mattress was digging into my left shoulder. I lay there for a while, feeling the sharp point press onto the edge of my bone, and then I rolled over onto my other side. I stared at the space beneath the computer table. My clock, which I’d put next to the computer screen, read 4:
55 a.m. Any minute now the birds would start singing and daylight would arrive.
Hopefully I’d be back in my room today and I could put my things exactly how I like them. Without the Wallpaper Lion, of course. I really needed to find that eye.
I heard a gate click shut outside. Someone was up early. Maybe Sue had an early shift at the supermarket. Surely not this early though?
I closed my eyes and tried to think where the eye could possibly be. I’d have to check the driveway when it was daylight and along the pavement and curb and around the front door step.
I could hear crying. A child was crying outside.
I opened my eyes and looked again at the clock. 4:56 a.m. I lifted my head off the pillow and listened.
Silence.
I must have imagined it. I lay back down, pushing the sheet off me. It was much hotter in the office than in my room, and being five inches from the carpet didn’t help—the air was suffocating down there.
I closed my eyes, but there it was again. A child was crying. I sat up and listened and this time it carried on.
I scrambled out of bed, opened the curtains, and looked down on Mr. Charles’s yard.
“Oh … my … God …”
Standing on the path by the roses and rubbing his face with his hand was Teddy. He sobbed quietly into the corner of his arm, and then he wiped his face and looked up at me and stopped.
“Fishy.”
I stared back at him. Was I dreaming?
“Fishy!”
His chubby little arm pointed up at my window. He was wearing a white pull-up diaper, a T-shirt decorated with a cartoon ice-cream cone, and no shoes. Reaching his hand up, he wriggled his fingers like he was trying to encourage a small pet.
“Fishy come?”
I ran out onto the landing.
“Mum! Dad! Quick! It’s Teddy!”
I ran down the stairs and out the front door and onto our driveway. The sharp concrete made me wince as I walked barefoot toward the garden fence. Teddy had crossed the lawn and was now jumping up and down ecstatically as he saw me. I stared at him, and for a second I wondered if he was a ghost. It was getting lighter now, and a solitary bird began to chirp loudly.
“Teddy?”
He looked well. Really, really well. He looked tired and his eyes were red and his hair looked like it could do with a good wash, but apart from that he looked completely unharmed. He stopped jumping and bent down to rip up a fistful of grass, which he held out as if to feed me. I walked toward him, hypnotized by his fat, little hand. The light from our hallway came on as Mum and Dad surfaced.
“Teddy,” I said. “Where have you been? Who-who took you? Are you all right? Where have you been, Teddy?”
He wasn’t interested in my questions and was more excited about trying to feed me with a handful of grass.
“Eat, Fishy. Eat!”
I quickly scanned my neighbors’ houses. They were all in darkness and no cars were missing. Behind Teddy I could see Mr. Charles’s gate was tightly shut. I took a step back and turned to face the middle of the cul-de-sac. Inhaling a huge lungful of air, I shouted at the houses with all my might:
“TEDDY’S BACK!”
If Mum had thought Melissa Dawson had hugged Casey hard when she’d returned from America, then she should have seen her hug Teddy. It was as if she were trying to inhale him, trying to absorb him into her bloodstream. After my shout she had been the first to appear, stumbling toward her son and grabbing him. She buried her head into his neck and sobbed. Teddy looked at me across his mum’s shoulder and scowled; he couldn’t try and feed me now. As everyone began to surface I went back inside. Mum and Dad came out our front door, virtually pushing each other out of the way to try and see what was going on.
“What’s that? Teddy’s back? Where? How did he get there?”
Mr. Charles appeared, followed by a bleary-eyed Casey. She took one look at Teddy and burst into tears, hiding her face in her grandfather’s legs.
I went upstairs and watched everything else from the office. Melody and her mum appeared with Frankie yapping at their feet. They laughed and hugged each other when they saw the toddler in Melissa’s arms. Someone must have called the police, because a patrol car appeared and two officers got out, talking urgently into their radios. The black door of the Rectory opened and Old Nina walked down her step. In her hand she held a small, blue, knitted blanket, just like the one that Teddy had been holding on the day he’d disappeared. She’d been making one all along, just as I’d suspected. Walking across to number eleven in her slippers, she held her head high and focused on Melissa. Teddy’s mum took the blanket with a thank-you, then smothered her boy’s head and face with a million kisses. There was only one house that was still in darkness. Penny and Gordon’s.
I lay back on the mattress and stared at the ceiling, listening to the excited voices outside. There was a question being asked over and over by the crowd.
“Where have you been, Teddy?”
“Teddy, tell us!”
“Was it a lady or a man?”
“Answer us, sweetheart!”
“Teddy, who took you away from us?”
There was silence for a moment, and I pictured his hand pointing toward Penny and Gordon’s house, but then he replied with just one word:
“Fishy!”
“Look, I didn’t take Teddy Dawson! He just likes me because his sister called me a goldfish once and they used to point at me when I was looking out the window, that’s all!”
Detective Bradley narrowed his eyes.
“I see,” he said. “It’s just that every time we’ve asked Teddy where he’s been and who took him, he just gives us the one answer.” He paused for a moment as he looked down at his notepad, and then he looked back up at me.
“Fishy.”
I groaned and sat back.
“You’re the ‘fishy’ he’s talking about, aren’t you, Matthew? Did you tell him that was your name?”
“No! Why would I call myself that? I’ve never even spoken to the kid!”
Mum put a hand on my shoulder and I flinched.
“Calm down, Matthew. You’re not being accused of anything.”
“Well, if I’m not, then why are they asking me these questions, Mum?” I looked at the policeman sitting in my kitchen. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you out there searching the other houses?”
Dad was standing by the kettle. So far he hadn’t said anything. Detective Bradley looked down at his notepad.
“We only search properties where we feel there is a justified reason, and at the moment, none of your neighbors are suspects. Why did you tell Mr. Charles you thought Mrs. Nina Fennell at the Rectory had taken him?”
I needed to wash. My skin tingled from the germs crawling around on my skin.
“Matthew?” said Mum.
“We also had a visit from Ms. Claudia Bird and her daughter, Melody, down at the station. Ms. Bird also stated that you were making accusations against Nina Fennell. Is that correct?”
“Matthew!” said Mum. “I told you Old Nina didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“B-but how could you be sure, Mum?”
Mum could see that I was close to tears. She turned her attention to the policeman.
“How is Teddy, detective? Has he been hurt?”
He shook his head.
“He’s fine. He’s been taken to the hospital to be checked over, but the initial signs are that he’s extremely well and appears unharmed. His clothes will be sent off for forensic tests, and that will hopefully tell us more about where he’s been.”
When he mentioned the forensic tests his eyes fixed on my hands, on my latex gloves. The gloves that wouldn’t show any fingerprints. I slipped my hands off the table and onto my lap.
“Am I a suspect, detective? I’m in this house ninety percent of the time. How on earth could I kidnap and hide a toddler without anyone knowing? Without my parents knowing?”
Detective Bradley looked at my mu
m, his face searching for any clues that she was somehow in on this, and then he quickly glanced at my dad.
“You were the last person to see Teddy, Matthew, and now you’re the first person to see him return. And both times you didn’t see anyone else?”
“No!”
“And the time you saw him when he went missing. Did he call up at you then? When you were watching from the window?”
I opened my mouth and closed it again. Just like a goldfish. I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Detective, how old is Teddy?” Dad was joining in the conversation at last. I gave him a weak smile.
Detective Bradley looked a little taken aback at the question.
“Well, he’s a toddler. He’s …” He consulted his notes again. “Fifteen months old.”
“Do you have kids, detective?”
“I do, Mr. Corbin, yes. A boy aged three.”
Dad smiled.
“Ah, that’s lovely. So it wasn’t that long ago when he was learning to talk, no?”
“I, erm, no. No, it wasn’t that long ago.”
Dad folded his arms.
“Well, I’m no expert, but I would have thought a child aged fifteen months wouldn’t generally have much vocabulary. Would you, Sheila?”
I twisted my head around, my eyes pleading for Mum to back him up, and she burst into action.
“That’s right! Well, when Matthew was that age he wasn’t even talking at all! I think his first words were bum-bum, and that wasn’t until he was at least eighteen months old. And he only ever said that when he’d dirtied his diaper. I was so desperate for him to say Mummy that I got quite upset about it, didn’t I, Brian?”
On second thought, I kind of wished Mum had kept her mouth shut.
Detective Bradley looked thoroughly fed up.
“Okay, okay. Look, Mr. and Mrs. Corbin, I’m just here because I want to get an idea why young Teddy has become so attached to your son. That’s all it is.”
He laid his palms flat on the kitchen table.
“Now, Matthew. Just one more question before I leave, and then you can get on with your day.”
The Goldfish Boy Page 19
