The Retreat

by Mark Edwards

  Megan, who’d betrayed her best friend to save her own skin.

  Lily thought back over their friendship. When Lily moved here from Manchester, Megan was the first girl who talked to her. Lily had been so relieved to make a new friend that she ignored Megan’s bossiness, her obsession with scary video games and the Widow. She even put up with Megan’s creepy grandad. She could almost laugh about that. It wasn’t Mr Collins she should have been afraid of. It was his granddaughter.

  When Lily closed her eyes and thought about Megan, she felt as if black moths were flapping around in her head. Black moths that beat their wings against her skull, that made her squirm and ache.

  If she ever got out of here, she decided, she wouldn’t tell anyone that Jake had been involved. It wasn’t his fault, after all. He had simply been following his sister’s orders. Blaming him wouldn’t help to set the moths free.

  She would find another way to ensure justice was done.

  Six months after Carys had brought her Little Cat, they were exercising when Carys suddenly collapsed, clutching her knee. She lay on the floor, groaning.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  Carys screwed up her face. ‘I pulled something. Help me up.’

  But Lily hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at the door she wasn’t allowed through.

  ‘Come on,’ Carys hissed, trying to get up but falling back.

  Lily didn’t stop to think. She pulled the door open and ran through, finding herself in a small room with a wooden chest at its centre. There had to be a way out, surely, but—

  Carys lurched into the room, a length of metal pipe in her hand.

  ‘You little bitch!’ she yelled, and swung the pipe at Lily’s head.

  When Lily came to, back in her room, she had a throbbing pain in her head. Worse, Little Cat was gone.

  ‘I warned you,’ Carys said later, ‘if you were bad, I’d take that cat away. Now he’s somewhere you’ll never find him. And if you try to escape again, you’ll spend the rest of your life in this room.’

  She slammed the door.

  Lily gave up hope of ever seeing Little Cat again – but then, a few days ago, Carys had appeared with the toy in her hand. Lily jumped up, delighted, until Carys produced a knife. She slashed at the palm of Lily’s hand, making her cry out, then grabbed her wrist and pushed Little Cat against the cut. She held him there for a minute before pulling him away, studying him with a smile before she left the room.

  That night, nursing her injured hand, Lily thought back to the longest conversation she’d ever had with Carys. It had happened a few months ago. Carys had come into the little room stinking of something familiar. A smell that reminded Lily of her dad. Alcohol. Carys sat on Lily’s mattress. She seemed tired and sad. She kept scratching at her arms with her sharp nails.

  ‘Do you miss your mum and dad?’ she asked.

  Lily didn’t know how to reply. She thought she might start crying again, until Carys said, ‘I miss my daddy so much. His name was Albert. Albert Patterson. He’s the one who saved me from the Widow.’

  Lily waited, knowing Carys was about to tell her a story. The woman stared into the corner, her voice dropping so Lily had to strain to hear her.

  ‘Daddy said the people who tried to sacrifice me were friends of his. A man and a lady. I remember the lady – she talked to me at the home, told me she had some kittens and did I want to come and see them?

  ‘Albert saw them taking me into the woods and followed them, just as I did for you.’ She smiled, showing her yellow teeth.

  ‘One day, the lady who tried to give me to the witch came to Nyth Bran. I recognised her straight away. The woman with the kittens! She had her daughter with her. The daughter had beautiful red hair. I wished my hair was that colour, so pretty and bright . . . I hid in the walls and watched them.’

  Lily swallowed. This ‘lady’ was Carys’s equivalent of Megan. The person who’d tried to give her to the Widow.

  ‘Did you hate her?’ Lily whispered. ‘For what she did?’

  ‘No, because if she hadn’t done it, Daddy wouldn’t have found me.’

  Lily was astonished. ‘But she tried to kill you! Carys, if it wasn’t for her you wouldn’t have spent your life living down here, in a hole like a . . . like a Hobbit.’

  Carys narrowed her eyes. ‘What’s a Hobbit?’

  ‘See!’ Lily exclaimed. ‘You don’t know anything. Have you ever watched a movie, or TV? Your whole life was stolen from you.’

  Carys shook her head. ‘No! Daddy hid me from the Widow and looked after me. He said I was his and Mummy’s reward, a reward for their patience. They couldn’t have children – and then I came along, like a gift. That’s why he made these walls soundproof – so when visitors came to the house they wouldn’t hear me.’

  Lily stared at her. ‘I don’t understand.’

  Carys scratched her arms harder and glared at Lily as if she were stupid. ‘Because no one could know I was here, of course. Daddy said if they found me they’d take me away. Send me back to the home.’ Tears appeared in her eyes. ‘I couldn’t go back to that place. It was so horrible there. The other children were mean to me and the grown-ups were mean too. The food was disgusting. I was so sad there.’

  Her eyes darted from side to side and she leant forward as if she were about to share a big secret. ‘Daddy said he would never let me go back to that place, that he would never let anyone find me. He built spaces into the walls of Nyth Bran so I could enter the house without anyone seeing me. He said that if anyone ever came looking for me, there would be places for me to hide. He got the idea from a book, he said, about a little girl in the war who hid from the nasties.’

  ‘The Nazis, you mean? Anne Frank?’

  Carys frowned. ‘I’m sure he said nasties.’

  Something dawned on Lily. ‘Wait. Nyth Bran. That’s my house!’

  ‘That’s right.’ Carys pointed to the ceiling. ‘It’s up there.’

  Lily jumped up. She went all dizzy and had to put a hand on the wall to steady herself. ‘Who lives there now?’

  ‘Nobody, Lily. Just us.’

  ‘Then why can’t we go up there, into the house? I want to see it! My things might still be there. My toys and books. My iPad! I can show you things. Videos! Games! I can show you all the things you missed.’

  The angry look came back, but there was confusion there too, as if Lily were actually getting through to her, making her see that she hadn’t been saved. Her ‘Daddy’ was not a good guy.

  ‘Let me go upstairs, find the iPad, all my other things . . .’

  ‘No! It’s all gone. And it’s not safe to go up there, not for you. The Widow will see you.’

  Lily wanted to wail with frustration. She had to make Carys see that this wasn’t right, that she had been wronged. That she didn’t need to live underground.

  ‘Where’s your . . . daddy now?’ she asked after a while.

  Carys clenched her fists. ‘Daddy got sick. The Big C, they called it. He was sick for ages, and then he died.’ Her eyes were watery. ‘And then Mummy got sick too, soon after. She said when he died her heart stopped working properly.’

  ‘Then what happened?’ Lily asked.

  A smile. ‘She let me into the house to look after her. It was nice, being able to do that. But then . . . then she changed. She became mean. Nasty.’ She screwed up her face and her voice changed. She sounded like a scary witch. ‘I never wanted you, never loved you. He loved you more than he loved me. I know what happened when he came down here to see you. You cunt. You little cocksucker.’

  Lily gasped at the bad language.

  Carys’s voice returned to normal. ‘But he never touched me. No man has ever touched me.’

  Lily didn’t know what to say to that.

  ‘Mummy told me that when she died I would have to leave here. She said she was going to leave the house to charity, to atone for all her and Albert’s sins. She cried a lot, ranted about how she was going to Hell but at least
Albert would be there too. And then one day I went up to see her and she was gone. I waited and waited but she never came back. I began to sleep up there, with the sun coming through the windows, in their big bed. That was when it struck me. If Mummy was dead too, that meant the house was mine. I was their daughter and it rightfully belonged to me.’ She almost shouted the last sentence.

  ‘But then people came. A man and a woman, wearing posh clothes. They put up a big sign outside. For Sale. I pulled it down but they brought another one. People kept coming to look around the house. Strangers. Nosy parkers. I hid in the walls and I made noises. You should have seen their faces.’ She laughed, sounding like a witch again. ‘But then I got sick . . . I thought I was going to die. I dreamt that a family had moved in upstairs, a new family with a little girl. And when I woke up the dream had come true.’

  She pointed a finger at Lily. ‘This house is mine. And your parents stole it.’

  Carys stood up and loomed over Lily, raising a hand. Lily pressed her back against the wall, closing her eyes. But nothing happened, and when she opened them again, Carys was smiling.

  ‘I liked your family, Lily. I liked listening to them through the walls. Especially you. I lay in the space by your bedroom, learned the song that you and your mum sang together.’

  She sang it now, the song Lily had learned at school, in a surprisingly tuneful, sweet voice that made her sound like a little girl.

  Un, dau, tri.

  Mam yn dal y pry . . .

  ‘I went into the house when you were all out. I liked to stand in the kitchen, imagining myself sharing a pot of tea with your mum. I sat at the dining table, wondering what it would be like to eat dinner with you all. I went into your room and cuddled your toys, pretending we were best friends.’ Her smile grew broader. ‘That part of my dream came true.’

  ‘We’re not best friends,’ Lily dared to whisper. She thought about her old best friend, Megan, and her head felt hot.

  Carys didn’t seem to hear her. ‘I was so sad when your dad didn’t come home that day, after I brought you here.’

  ‘But you weren’t sad about my mum?’

  Immediately, from the expression on the woman’s face, Lily knew Carys had said something she didn’t mean to say.

  ‘My mum? Is she still alive?’

  But Carys didn’t answer. ‘That’s enough for now.’

  She stood up and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Lily beat on it with her fists. ‘Please. Is my mum alive? Where is she?’

  But there was no reply.

  Last night, a few days after Carys had cut Lily’s hand and pressed it against Little Cat, Carys came into the room with a strange expression on her face.

  ‘I saw your mum,’ she said.

  Lily jumped up. ‘What? When?’

  ‘A bad lady tried to hurt her . . . She’s much older now but I knew her. I knew who she was! I never forget a face, Lily.’ She giggled and Lily wondered if she’d been drinking again. Her eyes were shining with excitement.

  ‘Who are you talking about?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Her! The girl with red hair! Her name is Heledd. The daughter of the bad lady who tried to give me to the Widow. She tried to hurt your mummy, Lily.’

  Lily fought back tears. Her mum was alive and nearby. But before she could form a question, Carys started to ramble on.

  ‘It was so funny. She thought I was the Widow. Imagine that! Because I was wearing my new red coat, the one I took from that crazy lady, the one who believes in spirits.’

  Lily had no idea what Carys was talking about.

  ‘And you know what? I remembered what you said – about how Heledd’s parents had tried to kill me, and suddenly, suddenly I was angry. Angry like I’ve never been before.’ She stood up and began to pace around the tiny room, with crazy eyes, waving her arms around and clenching her fists.

  ‘I told her she should confess. That she should tell the world what her mother and father had done. Confess all their sins! And if she didn’t, I would kill her.’ She cackled, just like Bloody Mary in Megan’s video game. ‘She believed me. I told her to confess everything.’

  Without warning, all the life seemed to leave Carys, like an untied balloon, and she flopped onto the mattress.

  ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have done it. Maybe it will lead them to me, to us. But I couldn’t stop myself. I thought about her, living her life up there, watching movies and TV and playing games, and I thought about my life down here, living like a mole. I could have killed her, Lily. I should have killed her.’

  She rambled on for another minute, making less and less sense.

  Finally, Lily said, ‘But my mum? Is she okay?’

  Carys nodded. ‘Oh yes. I saved her.’

  Lily couldn’t hold back any longer. She jumped up and shouted, ‘Mummy! Mum! I’m here!’

  Carys watched her. ‘She won’t hear you. I told you. No sound escapes this place.’

  ‘Mummy!’

  Carys grabbed hold of her and raised a hand again. ‘Shut up!

  Lily didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘Please. Please let me go back and be with her. I don’t want to be here any more.’ She collapsed on the bed, sobbing.

  ‘Shut up! Stop that, now!’ Carys screamed at her, her face as red as blood. ‘I told you, you’re mine now. And if anyone tries to take you, I’ll kill them. I’ll kill you.’

  Carys stood by the door.

  ‘I should never have spoken to Heledd, never told her to confess. They’re going to start looking for me again.’ She scratched at her arms. ‘I need to hide you somewhere better.’

  ‘Why not just let me go?’

  ‘No! Shut up! We’re going to leave here, tonight, when it’s dark. We’ll go somewhere new. Somewhere they’ll never find us. So we can be together, you and me, forever.’

  Chapter 47

  ‘What did you see?’ Julia demanded.

  ‘Hold on.’

  I crouched by the door again and put my eye to the keyhole. It was so hard to see. But then the person on the mattress shifted, turning over and giving me a good look at her light brown hair. She was small too.

  A child.

  ‘Julia,’ I said. ‘I’m not a hundred per cent sure, so don’t freak out, but I think it’s a little girl.’

  Julia gasped and put her hands over her mouth. ‘Lily? You think it’s Lily? Oh my God . . .’

  She pushed me out of the way and knelt by the keyhole. Her entire body started to shake.

  ‘It’s her, it’s her.’ Her voice caught on the final word, so it became a sob. She stood up and thumped on the door with both fists while I returned to a crouching position and peered back through the keyhole. ‘Lily! Lily, it’s me, it’s Mummy, I’m here, sweetheart . . .’

  Inside the room, the girl in the bed sat up, blinking with confusion, and then she leapt out of the bed, flying towards the door. It was her. It was definitely Lily.

  ‘Mummy!’ She screamed the word and thumped on the door. Julia was pulling at the handle, rattling it, as if she could pull the door from its hinges.

  I grabbed her arm. ‘Julia, Lily’s trying to tell us something.’

  Julia fell quiet. Through the door, Lily shouted in a wavering voice. ‘The key. She keeps it in the chest by her bed.’

  ‘Who’s she, sweetheart?’ Julia asked, her voice thick, just about managing to hold back the tears. It was a testament to her strength. The emotions coursing through her would have overwhelmed most people. But she was holding it together, at least until she got Lily safely out of here.

  ‘Her name’s Carys,’ Lily said through the door.

  I had been right. Of course it was her. The other little girl who’d gone missing all those years ago. Not a little girl any more. And, like a child who is mistreated, or worse, who passes it on to the next generation, Carys was doing exactly what had been done to her. History repeating.

  I had many questions for Lily – not least of which was, where was Carys now?
– but first we had to get her out of her cell. I ran back into the other room and pulled open the top drawer of the chest. It was full of underwear. Half of this stuff was probably Julia’s, I thought, throwing aside bras and knickers, groping for the key. There was no sign of it.

  And then Julia yelled.

  I rushed back through the door.

  Julia was lying on the floor and the door to Lily’s cell stood open. Blood seeped from a wound on Julia’s temple. Before I could react, something rushed out of the cell, something that let out an unearthly, violent howl. No, not something – someone. Carys. She must have come in through the house, through the steel door we had been unable to pass.

  She smashed into me, knocking me off my feet. I sprawled on the hard floor, banging my head on the concrete. The world went white for a moment. When I came to there was a terrible ringing inside my head – it felt like a bell that had been struck by an iron rod – and Carys was gone. I got to my feet, holding my head, wondering briefly if this second injury would do any permanent damage.

  The cell was empty. I took in the dirty mattress, the children’s books piled beside it, the bedpan, the stuffed toys. It reminded me of photos I’d seen of the places hostages were kept in the Middle East, albeit a child’s version.

  ‘Where is she?’

  I whirled round. Julia was getting to her feet and looking around.

  ‘Where is she?’ she screamed.

  We heard a thud. It had come from the room where we’d entered this underground apartment. I rushed towards it, Julia following. The chest had been pushed to one side, exposing the hatch. Ignoring a wave of pain and nausea I bent to open it, lowering myself to drop through it, picking up the flashlight we’d left here when we came through a little earlier. Julia went to follow.