Light Up the Dark

by Suki Fleet

  “Hey, I’ve got this.” Cai grabbed the disgusting grey blanket and began to sweep at Nicky’s blanket shawl and the floor, brushing the tiny shards of broken glass towards the hearth. “Careful where you put your hands. I stepped on a tiny bit of glass once and it hurt like hell for a week,” Cai carried on.

  Nicky didn’t give a fuck about the glass right now. “Could you stop being so fucking parental? Where is she?”

  “Who?” Cai paused, the blanket bunched in his fists. When Nicky didn’t reply, he carried on asking more questions, as though he had no idea at what point he should shut up. “Was there someone else here? Was it the same person who followed you, do you think? Did she… did she hurt you? Is that why you were…?”

  There was a note of horror in Cai’s voice. The guy had been in prison and yet he seemed shocked by this. For a long moment Nicky stared at him.

  “She must have gone,” Nicky said carefully, suppressing a sudden, crazy urge to crawl onto Cai’s lap and curl up.

  He needed to downplay his little outburst. Cai obviously hadn’t come in here because he’d seen something. Cai was here because he’d probably been poking around again, and the less he knew the better. Perhaps he had unwittingly scared Fox Mask off, or perhaps she’d just left after Nicky had drugged himself.

  Whatever had happened, Cai was far too nosy for his own good. And Nicky’s.

  Secretive and curious didn’t mix too well.

  “You need to go home.”

  Cai shrugged, rolling his far too plump lower lip between his teeth and looking thoughtful. “I understand about you not wanting to get the police involved. I get that. I really do.” Cai held his gaze for so long Nicky began to wonder which of them would cave in and look away first. Nicky couldn’t suppress a shudder of satisfaction when Cai looked at his hands. “But you need to sort out the locks on your back door. If there are people trying to get to you, you need to make it harder for them.”

  “Okay.” Nicky bit his tongue from saying anything sarcastic about needing to do something to make it harder for Cai to get to him and nodded instead. Perhaps if he just agreed it would get rid of Cai faster.

  “You need to go home now, Cai.” Nicky had never liked using people’s names—it felt weird. And when Cai grinned, all teeth, like a hungry fox sighting its prey, Nicky made a mental note not to use Cai’s name ever again.

  “I can stay for a bit, if you want.” The nonchalant way Cai said it belied that look in his eyes that suggested all Nicky needed to do was ask. But that wasn’t going to happen. And besides, there was something strange about the way Cai kept glancing at the fire as if he wanted to stop watching it but he couldn’t. The way his hands formed loose fists in his lap, and the muscles of his jaw twitched. The closer Nicky watched the more it seemed as though a battle was going on inside Cai. But about what, he wasn’t sure.

  I’m not curious, Nicky told himself. Not one bit. “I’ll be fine,” Nicky said quickly, shaking his head.

  Before Cai left, he made Nicky follow him out to the kitchen to lock the door behind him. Nicky was used to the darkness, but in the corridor Cai stumbled and tripped over his feet and asked if Nicky could turn on a light. When Nicky told him he’d not had electricity for weeks, Cai looked shocked.

  “Do you need any food, or supplies? I don’t mind doing a bit of shopping.” Cai stood on the threshold, gripping the door in one hand to stop the wind banging it closed. He seemed reluctant to leave.

  Nicky almost considered the offer. He pulled his shawl closer, tucking a corner between his bare thighs as the wind gusted, threatening to expose him utterly. The moon was casting blue shadows across the field of swaying grass that had once been the lawn. Fuck, he was cold.

  “Don’t get involved, Cai. You don’t want any trouble, remember.” Nicky kept his eyes on the sky, feeling awkward as he remembered how badly he’d flipped out when Cai told him he had a prison record. It had been a stressful morning. He’d overreacted. Probably.

  “I’m already involved.” Cai shrugged. He tilted his head into Nicky’s line of vision, so Nicky had to turn his head even further to avoid looking at him. “Nicky?”

  Nicky had been wrong; Cai’s eyes weren’t cowlike—they were more like the eyes of an annoyingly cute, abandoned puppy. But Nicky had no idea what to do with a puppy. All he knew was if you didn’t give a puppy enough attention it was likely to drive you mad and break stuff, and if you ignored and neglected it long enough it’d probably end up hurting itself.

  Looking away, Nicky closed the door. Well aware Cai was watching him, he sank down and struggled to pull the bolts across. Then he stood up and walked back across the dark, cold kitchen.

  Not enough

  Cai got all the way to the end of the drive before he thought fuck it and drove back towards the house.

  How was he supposed to sleep tonight knowing he’d left Nicky alone and in the dark with some weirdo stalker out there? Something had obviously happened this afternoon, but he hadn’t wanted to push Nicky into telling him what it was. If he pushed he suspected Nicky would clam up and lock himself away, figuratively, literally, the whole shebang.

  Damn, but Thorn Hall was creepy. Cai turned off the engine as soon as the van slid to an extended halt. He’d need to replace the brakes soon or the van was not going to be roadworthy.

  Shadows clung to the walls of the house, the darkness so deep it was easy to imagine all the things lurking there. Three stories up, the jagged roof tiles were starkly illuminated by the silvery moon light, and the many chimney pots cast out long fingers of blackness right across the driveway, as though they were reaching out, waiting for something or someone to grab a hold of.

  Enough.

  Cai stepped out of the van, slamming the door so loudly a dozen sleepy birds shot into the sky from the nearby trees. He pulled his borrowed coat tight around his back and, humming tunelessly, marched through the trees and around the side of the house. Nicky’s study window glowed warmly with the light of the fire. Cai could have sat and watched the flames all night. The logs he’d brought in wouldn’t last long, and all the new wood he’d cut was too green to burn well.

  Nicky was curled in a tight ball in front of the fire. Not wanting to scare him, Cai tapped as gently as he could on the glass. If he hadn’t already worked out how on edge Nicky was, seeing him scramble backwards in terror would have told Cai everything he needed to know.

  Secret weaknesses

  The sudden noise outside made Nicky nearly bite through his tongue. He’d listened to Cai drive away, then not five minutes later, he’d heard the sound of another vehicle pulling up outside the house. To say he’d been a little anxious when someone tapped on the window was a bit of an understatement.

  Cai’s tentatively smiling face on the other side of the glass was not what he expected.

  “Open the back door for me?” Cai’s asked, his voice muffled.

  “I thought you were going home.” Nicky folded his arms across his chest. He’d changed into a hoodie with a broken zip, a ropey black T-shirt and even ropier leggings and kept the blanket slung around his shoulders. His hair felt gross, but there was no way he was going to attempt a cold wash in the bathroom until it was light again. He didn’t really want to leave the room.

  “Please?”

  There was that puppy look again. Nicky did not have a weakness for puppies. He didn’t like cute things. He couldn’t stand them. And yet, off he went, pulling out the chair he’d wedged under the door handle and unlocking the study door. He glanced into the gloom of the corridor, knowing Fox Mask could be anywhere, watching him. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he headed down the corridor. By the time he got there, Cai was waiting with his face pressed up against the glass of the door.

  As soon as Nicky had tugged back the bolts, Cai pushed the door open and thrust something into his hand. “Here. Take this. You should have a phone… if… if you don’t already….”

  “A phone.” Nicky looked at the object Cai had given h
im blankly. “Your phone?”

  “I’m worried about you.”

  The world tilted. Nicky put a hand on the door frame to steady himself. It must have been the drugs still in his system.

  Absently, he let Cai fold the fingers of his other hand around an ancient-looking mobile. Cai’s hands were warm, strong, his fingers thick and rough and touching him. Nicky blinked quickly and pulled his hand away, at the same time struggling to keep his arm from pushing the door open wider and inviting Cai inside for one more minute so he wasn’t alone.

  It seemed his body wanted to make some decisions for him. His brain was whispering that would be a bad, bad idea, Nicky dearest. His heart was… fuck, since when did he have a heart?

  “You don’t know me,” he said.

  Cai held his gaze. “I know enough.”

  After Cai left, Nicky hurried back to the study. With shaking hands, he unlocked the door and scanned the room for any sign of Fox Mask. Everything was as he’d left it. The fire was blazing in the hearth and the room emanated heat out into the cold, draughty corridor. Nicky closed the door and leaned back against it, staring into the crackling heart of the flames. He breathed slowly and deeply, counting his breaths and trying desperately not to think about the possibility that Fox Mask could still be here in the house somewhere, just waiting for another opportunity when Nicky was on his own. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t leave—he didn’t know how—yet in a few weeks, when the will was read, he was going to have to…. Cyril would be only too glad to drag him from the house, he was sure. What the fuck was he going to do?

  The unhealthy chugging of Cai’s van starting up broke through his thoughts. Lance’s old red Jag had purred—the gravel shifting under its tyres had made more noise than its engine. It was the sort of car that snuck up on you out of nowhere. A stealthy beast. After Lance’s death, a tow truck had turned up early one morning and had taken the Jag away. Nicky hadn’t even given it a second thought. Until now. Now that thoughts of leaving had become more urgent. It wasn’t as though Nicky couldn’t drive. He’d had driving lessons for his seventeenth birthday; his gran had bought them for him. It felt like a million years ago. He’d never had enough money to own a car of his own, so he hadn’t driven much after he’d passed his test.

  Perhaps he could steal Cai’s decrepit van. The thought made Nicky wish he’d never spoken to Cai. That he wasn’t so kind. Nicky gripped the phone in his hand so tight he thought he might break it. Everything was fucked up.

  It was fucked up that Cai’s offer to stay had made him feel a little less scared. A little less isolated. It was even more fucked up that he liked the way Cai seemed impervious to his biting remarks. And it was too fucked up for words that Cai worrying about him made him feel weak and strong at the same time. The world suddenly filled with more light than darkness.

  After propping the heaviest-looking chair against the door, Nicky sank down into the armchair nearest the fire and stroked his thumb over Cai’s cracked phone screen. Call me on Soph’s number, Cai had said. If you need anything, if you’re scared, if you think there’s someone in the house, call and ask for me and I’ll be there.

  What Cai’s agenda was for offering to help, Nicky didn’t know, but for some reason he believed Cai would do what he promised. But in a world full of dangerous things, trust was perhaps the most dangerous thing of all.

  Fish and chips

  Even though Nicky had been the one preoccupying his thoughts as he drove across the dark of the town, the relief that washed through Cai as he pulled up in the car park outside the bookies and saw the lights on and the curtains drawn in the flat was palpable. Soph was far from a little kid—he knew that, and it wasn’t as though he didn’t trust her. It was everyone else he didn’t trust.

  He crunched across the gravel, wondering if worrying about her like this was normal. He was her guardian, not her parent, and his own experiences of growing up hadn’t given him much of an insight into how normal families functioned. Maybe worrying about those you cared about was just how it went. Well, whatever it was, he hadn’t expected it and it was exhausting. And suddenly he was worrying about Nicky and all his secrets too. Not that Nicky would likely appreciate it. But whether he did or didn’t, it was something Cai had little control over.

  As Cai unlocked the front door, he could hear Soph’s infectious laughter. A guitar was jangling. And was that Loz… singing? Raising an eyebrow, Cai headed up stairs. In the living room, all the cushions were piled up on the floor. Soph was dancing around them, wearing a necklace of chip forks and laughing, while Loz was perched on the arm of the sagging sofa, guitar on their knee, eyes closed as they sang.

  Cai leaned back against the doorjamb and watched, fascinated. Seeing Soph happy and carefree like this made him feel weightless. It was as if he’d cast off a burden he’d been carrying with him. Yeah, there was all the worry. But then there was this—these moments that flared like bright sparks of joy. He could have stood there and watched them all night. He almost considered ducking back out until they’d finished. When Soph saw him and froze mid-step, forks clattering, eyes wide, a part of him wished he had.

  But as soon as he grinned, she relaxed and grinned back. Loz was still playing. It was a howling nonsense of a song, played on two cords. Thunder fish were the only words Cai could make out. The best thing about it was how much Loz seemed to be enjoying themselves. Not taking her eyes off Cai, Soph reached down and touched Loz’s knee.

  Loz’s eyes snapped opened, and they nearly fell off the arm of the chair in an attempt to get up and put the guitar down at the same time.

  “Ah. I’m sorry! I can’t play but I want to and I was so careful with it, I promise. I know I should have asked you first. It was just we were… we were….” Loz sent Soph a pleading glanced.

  “It’s the fish and chip song.” Soph smiled and reached for Loz’s hand.

  “Like a rain dance,” Loz added, eagerly. “But for food. Not that we want it to…”

  Cai glanced into the kitchen. There was no evidence of the takeaway he’d suggested when he’d texted earlier. Hours ago. “Are you hungry?”

  Loz glanced at Soph, and Soph nodded.

  “Okay.” Cai gave them both a puzzled frown and disappeared into his bedroom.

  Every time he went to get some money or to put some change back, he was reminded that stuffing nearly four thousand pounds in an envelope at the back of his sock drawer was a piss-poor hiding place. But Cai’s lack of imagination for deceit wasn’t something he had the energy to be ashamed of. After he paid off the rent, van loan and other essentials, most of the money would be gone anyway.

  He pulled out a twenty and tucked the rest away, then left Soph and Loz clearing up the flat while he went to the chippy a few doors down.

  The three of them sat on the floor crowded around the decrepit coffee and ate ravenously, without talking. When they’d finished, it felt late. Loz got up to use the bathroom and Cai dug in his pocket to check the time on his phone, wondering whether he should offer to take Loz home.

  His heart constricted. His phone. He’d given it to Nicky for emergencies, told Nicky to call Soph’s number if he needed to and he’d not even checked if Soph’s phone was on. Fuck. What if something had happened?

  Cai took a deep breath. “Soph, I need to borrow your phone. Just for tonight. I’ve given mine to… to someone to borrow.” He paused, not sure how much he should explain.

  How could he explain anything without telling Soph everything that had happened and possibly worrying her? But he didn’t like keeping secrets, and he was beginning to discover he especially didn’t like keeping them from those he cared about. “I’ll only need it until the morning.”

  “Okay.” Soph handed him her phone without question, though he knew she was waiting for him to say more.

  Cai glanced at the screen. The phone was switched on and there were no missed calls. Making sure the phone’s volume was on loud, he slipped it into his pocket. “Thanks.”
The takeaway still covered the table between them. Cai stared at it for a moment. “I didn’t think you’d want to wait for me to eat,” he said eventually.

  Looking away, Soph shrugged. “There’s a lot of money in the envelope. I… I didn’t like to just go and take any of it.”

  “Soph, we’re in this together. That money is for food for both of us. It’s yours as much as mine. I trust you.”

  “I’m not the one who earned it, though.”

  “Look, I’m going to give you some of it. You need shoes and things for school.”

  “I feel bad.”

  “Don’t. Please. We’re a family, right?” Soph’s small nod made his heart lighter. “I know I should probably put it in a bank.” Cai rolled his shoulders, feeling awkward. “I’m just not good with stuff like that.”

  “I could do that for you, if you want?”

  “Would you?”

  Not meeting his gaze, Soph picked at the warped wood of the tabletop. “I need to ask you something. I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry? Ask.”

  “Would it be okay if Loz stayed over?”

  “Tonight?”

  Soph nodded. She looked around, then leaned forwards, and said quietly, “It’s the anniversary of Loz’s cousin’s death tomorrow and they have family round and they don’t get on and it’s even more depressing at home than normal, I think.”

  “If Loz’s family is okay about it, then it’s fine by me. Is Loz okay?”

  “Yeah. This is a big thing for their family. Their cousin Jordan Blake was murdered a couple of years ago, it was in all the papers and on the news—” Soph cut off as the bathroom door squeaked open. “Thank you,” she whispered.