Tom introduced each of them in turn.
‘Archie, you’re not in any trouble. Becky and I are police officers, but we’re here because we’re trying to find out what happened to Jennifer. We want to be sure that nobody hurt her or did anything that may have made her want to hurt herself. Is it okay if we ask you a few questions?’
Archie’s eyes were round with fear, so Tom did his best to put the child at ease by asking him questions that had simple answers about his age, his school, his friends. Slowly, the little boy relaxed slightly in the chair, the feet on the ends of his skinny legs starting to swing backwards and forwards a little instead of being held rigid.
‘Do you know many of Jennifer’s friends?’ Tom asked. Archie shook his head. ‘Did any of her friends come to the house?’ This time the shaking was slightly more vigorous, and Becky reflected that this wasn’t the sort of home to which a young girl would be comfortable to invite friends.
‘What about boys, Archie?’
Instantly the child’s legs froze, and his eyes shot to the door as if afraid that one of his parents was listening.
‘It’s okay, Archie,’ Becky said softly. ‘Your dad said you can say anything you like, and I’m sure he meant it. Did Jen tell you anything about a boy that she’d met?’
Becky had heard Mr Bale refer to his daughter as Jen, and thought maybe Archie might be more comfortable with that name.
‘She told me it was a secret,’ he whispered.
‘I know, sweetheart,’ Becky said, ‘but we need to understand everything about Jen’s life so we can find out what happened to her.’
‘It’s my fault,’ he whispered, his eyes growing huge as they filled with tears. As he spoke, they overflowed, dripping down his cheeks and off his chin. Becky pulled a tissue from her bag and leaned forward to wipe his little face. ‘She wanted me to go with her, and I said no. She wouldn’t have done it if I’d gone. I know she wouldn’t.’
He started to sob. Becky looked at Tom, and he shook his head. The poor child. Chrissie Lee got up from her seat and knelt on the floor by Archie, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze.
‘It’s okay, Archie. It’s okay. Tell Tom and Becky what you know, love. Nobody’s cross with you.’
‘Mummy will be cross,’ he said through his sobs.
‘No, she won’t. I promise. What’s upset you so much, Archie?’
‘Jen met a boy but it was a secret. I wasn’t supposed to tell. He told her she was beautiful, and she liked that. But then I heard her crying in bed. She said he wasn’t making her happy any more.’
The three adults in the room waited, and Chrissie passed Archie a glass of water. He took two sips and passed it back to her.
‘The day before…’ He gulped and stared at his knees. ‘The day before – you know – she asked me to go with her to see him. She wanted me to bunk off.’
Archie looked up for a moment, his eyes wide with horror at the thought of doing something so naughty.
‘I wasn’t going to do that! I’d get in trouble. She kept saying, “Please, Archie – I’ll buy you a present.”’
Archie stopped. They waited to see if he had anything else to say, but he buried his head in his cupped hands and started sobbing again.
Tom signalled to Becky to ask the next question. Archie seemed a little more receptive to her.
‘Archie, can you remember what she said when she asked you to go with her?’
He nodded into his hands. ‘She said if I went, nothing would happen. But if I didn’t, she was as good as dead.’
27
By the early afternoon Scarlett had convinced herself that it was safe to leave the bedroom and she crept hesitantly into the sitting room, listening carefully for any unexpected noises. There was nothing. She tried watching TV, but struggled to deal with the relentless jolliness of a variety of indistinguishable game show hosts and found it hard to sit still. She had to escape the confines of the stuffy apartment, and the only option seemed to be to brave the dreadful weather and go to the shops.
Before leaving she went to the window to check there was nobody standing in the alley. It was empty, so she put her coat on and decided to risk it. But as she ran down the metal staircase and out into the street she knew she would be looking over her shoulder every few minutes. She didn’t know why. She had never been scared of Ed before.
As she trudged through the wet streets to the local supermarket, she decided to surprise her mum by preparing something for their evening meal. Her mum was such a good cook, and when Scarlett was younger she had loved helping, standing on a stool so she could reach the worktop, wearing her own special pinny. They had both lost their passion for cooking since her dad had died, but Scarlett could remember a couple of simple dishes that they used to make with chicken, so she bought the ingredients.
By the time she got back she was soaked to the skin and couldn’t wait to dry off. Blinking in the fierce glare of the lights as they spluttered into action in the corridor, she could see what looked like a package leaning against their door. Someone must have delivered it while she was out, but how had they got into the building?
She stared at the package as if it were an unexploded bomb. It had her name in big black letters on the front, written in capitals with a marker pen. For some reason she found herself turning to see if anyone was watching. There was nobody.
She put her key in the lock and pushed open the door, bending to pick up the parcel with the tips of her fingers.
Dumping the bag of groceries on the worktop, she pulled the package open. Inside was a note and a smaller bag. She opened the note.
Dear Scarlett – I miss you!
I realised when you left in a hurry that you’d left this behind, and I thought while you’re living in Manchester you might need it if you’re looking for things to fill your days.
With love always, and a little treat from me,
Ed xx
Scarlett felt herself flush. Ed had been here – right outside their door. How did he know where they lived? How had he got in? Maybe it was him that morning, waiting until her mum had gone out. But she had left hours before Scarlett went to the shops.
She ripped open the bag, pushed her hand inside and pulled out a chocolate orange. Ed knew it was her favourite, and she could smell its deliciousness through the foil wrapper. There was something else in the bag too, and feeling the silky fabric with her fingers, she knew exactly what it was.
She took her phone out of her pocket, not knowing whether to call her mum or Ed. She finally made her choice and pressed Call.
‘Scarlett, how lovely to hear from you. Did you get my package?’
She didn’t answer. She just wanted to know one thing.
‘How do you know where we live, Ed? Mum’s going to go mad.’
‘I was thinking of you when I brought it, not your mum. I know you must be bored in town on your own. Look Scarlett, more than anything I want you both to come home. But if that can’t be, I still want to be sure that you’re safe and happy. And the little gift is just so you know how much I care.’
Scarlett didn’t know what to say, so she repeated her question.
‘I know where you live because I asked Megan,’ he answered. ‘She said she’s not playing silly games – as I knew she would – so she gave me your address. I rang one of the buzzers at the entrance and said I was a police officer and I needed to get in.’
She wanted to ask if he had been outside the apartment in the rain that morning, but it was better not to know. It would be another lie she had to tell. Or not. She really hadn’t decided.
‘I’d better go,’ she said. ‘I’m cooking dinner for Mum.’
‘Well done, darling. She’ll be delighted. Look, I know it’s a bit boring for you in town – that’s why I dropped off the package. Let me know if you want some company, won’t you? I’d love to see you.’
Scarlett didn’t know what to say, so she quickly ended the conversation. She picked up the bag and walked i
nto the bedroom.
For a moment she sat on the end of the bed, grasping the bag in both hands, wondering what to do. With a sigh she pulled open a drawer and pushed the bag, with the chocolate orange and her favourite swimming costume still inside, right to the back where her mum wouldn’t see it.
28
Natalie decided to drive past Ed’s house to check that he was out. The drive was empty and she sighed with relief. She drove round the corner and parked her car, concerned that if she left it in the drive somebody might see it and mention it to Ed.
She knew Ed was covering somebody’s nights this week, but she also remembered that he was due to go on a half-day training course this afternoon. His change of shift was unlikely to have persuaded him to cancel the course. He didn’t seem to need much sleep, and never suffered the way Bernie had when he switched between days and nights.
She walked up the path and inserted her key in the lock. Stepping into the silent house, she closed the door gently. It felt so strange to be back. Even on a wet, muggy day like today the house seemed welcoming, its thick walls maintaining a pleasant, cool atmosphere. She leaned back against the door for a moment, overcome by the memory of the day she had moved in, when the house had been overflowing with beautiful roses, their heady perfume filling the air. She had been so happy that day, and Scarlett had beamed at the effort Ed had gone to.
A fresh wave of sadness hit her. How had she got it so wrong?
Shaking herself out of her despondency, Natalie made for the stairs. She would start in Ed’s spare room. Not the room she had used for storing her things, but a room she had never been in, other than to poke her head round the door when Ed was showing her the house.
‘This is where I keep all the junk that I don’t use, or that doesn’t have anywhere sensible to live, and when it’s so full I can’t get through the door, I have a sort-out and then start filling it again,’ he had said with a smile.
He knew she never went in here, so if he had anything to hide this would be the place.
She started on the drawers, riffling quickly through layers of neatly folded clothes that he obviously didn’t wear any more. I’ll suggest he takes them to the charity shop, she thought, before remembering that she had no right to suggest anything now.
There was nothing of interest as far as she could see, so she made a start on the wardrobe. That didn’t seem to hold anything more exciting than old clothes either. She hadn’t realised what a hoarder he was.
She was about to give up when she noticed a strap hanging from the top of the wardrobe. She pulled a chair across and climbed onto it. Everything up there was covered in a fine layer of dust as if it hadn’t been touched for years. The only clean item was a small black case attached to the strap she had noticed. She pulled it towards her and climbed down from the chair.
She put the case on top of the chest of drawers and clicked open the catches. Inside was a camera. She didn’t know much about cameras, but this seemed to be quite a fancy one with a zoom lens and lots of dials and buttons, one of which was marked On/Off.
She switched it to On. All she had to do was figure out how to view the photos stored on the memory card, but the fear of what she might find made her hands damp, and she couldn’t find her way through the multiple options that the screen on the back of the camera offered. She was concentrating so hard that she only realised somebody had pulled onto the drive when she heard a car door slam.
‘Shit,’ she whispered.
It had to be Ed, back early from the course – or maybe he hadn’t gone. He couldn’t find her here. What excuse could she give? She tried to think, but her brain was like jelly, ideas bouncing around but not settling. If she had been in their bedroom she could have said she had come back for some clothes, but she had no excuse for being in here. The chances were that he wouldn’t come into this room, so perhaps she could wait until he went out again, although God knew when that might be.
She rushed across the room just as she heard his key go in the lock and silently closed the door, leaning against it, her breath coming in short gasps.
The front door slammed, and she heard heavy feet trudging up the stairs. She could feel the pulse in her neck beating. Ed’s tread was usually much softer than would be expected of a man of his size, but today it was slow and leaden, as if it was all too much effort.
She didn’t think he would hurt her if he found her, but she had already realised how little she knew about this man. If he thought she was a threat, who knew what he would do? Nobody knew she was there.
She couldn’t hear much through the closed door, but then there was a dull thud as if he had closed a drawer. Perhaps he was getting changed. That might mean he was going out again.
Footsteps sounded on the landing outside the door. Please don’t come in!
They carried on, and she heard feet on the stairs again. It was going to be okay. He was going down and she would just have to wait until she had a chance to escape.
And then a sound broke through the relative quiet. Natalie’s breath caught in her throat. It was the sound of a phone ringing. Her phone, and it was right there with her in the room.
29
Scarlett still hadn’t decided whether to say anything about Ed’s parcel. It was thoughtful of him to come all the way into town for her, but she didn’t think for a moment that her mum would see it that way. Scarlett decided to make dinner and play it by ear. If her mum seemed calm, she would mention it.
She took the chicken breasts out of the bag and laid them in a dish, hearing her mother’s words in her head: ‘Always wash your hands after handling raw chicken.’ She smiled at the memory as she did as she had been taught, and then set about squeezing a lemon and crushing some garlic.
Her mind was so busy with thoughts of Ed that it was a moment before she registered what she had heard. A tinkle of laughter. It was as if there was a girl in the room with her.
Scarlett cried out as her thumb caught on the blade of the knife, and she raised it to her mouth to suck the blood away, tasting the bitter raw garlic. The laughter stopped. It was as if her cry had silenced the girl. Did that mean she could hear Scarlett too?
She gently replaced the knife on the worktop and stood still. Now she could hear something else – the low rumble of someone with a deep voice speaking quietly, but she couldn’t make out the words. The voices blended together, indistinguishable from each other. Scarlett jumped as a high-pitched giggle echoed around the room. She tilted her head to look up to the ceiling, from where the sound seemed to trickle down on her, as if someone was up there, laughing at her.
Scarlett’s instinct was to run. But if she did that, she would never be able to stay in this room on her own again. So her eyes scoured the off-white plaster above her, looking for anything that might tell her that right here in this room with her was the spirit of a child, trapped forever.
‘Hello,’ she whispered, the word barely more than a vibration on her lips. ‘Hello, I’m Scarlett,’ she murmured again, slightly louder.
She moved slowly around the room, staring up, waiting to hear more laughter or see a floating shape outlined against the pale paint. But all was silent now. There was nothing above her, and only the hideous light fitting broke the monotony of the ceiling. She circled the room, her eyes never leaving the space above her. Her back to the narrow window at the far end of the sitting room, she noticed a small plastic fitting obscured by the lampshade from all other angles, and she remembered Cliff telling them about the ventilation system.
Her eyes fixed on the vent, she heard a voice, high and young, the voice of the laughing girl. ‘Like this?’
Was it a ghost, or was the sound somehow coming through the vent? She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Maybe there were no ghosts.
Scarlett remembered a science lesson from school when they talked about ways of transmitting sound. The girl seemed so close, but maybe her voice was coming from somewhere else, channelled through the ventilation duc
ts. She crept back to the kitchen area and reached into a wall cupboard, gently lifting a tumbler from the shelf. On bare feet she tiptoed across the room to the wall where the flat-screen TV hung and pressed the glass against the plaster, her ear against its base.
For a moment she heard nothing, and then a cry of, ‘Is this okay?’ followed by another burst of laughter broke the silence. Scarlett heard the sound waves as they travelled through the glass and into her left ear at the same time as they hit her right ear from the vent. She was right. The sounds were coming from the other side of the wall – from the apartment next to theirs in the south wing.
She gave a huge sigh of relief. Thank goodness she wasn’t going totally mad.
It had all gone quiet now, with no more laughter or muttered words through the wall. Scarlett waited, listening, for about half an hour. There was nothing. The girl on the other side of the wall had sounded young – maybe around her own age – and suddenly she felt she had to know, had to be sure that it really wasn’t a ghost. She wouldn’t be able to relax until she was certain. Making a decision, she put the marinating chicken in the fridge and grabbed the keys to the flat.
As she closed the door behind her and stepped into the dark corridor, she wondered for a moment if this was a ridiculous thing to do. But her dad had always said her natural curiosity would make her a great detective, and it would be a couple of hours before her mum got home, so why not explore? She could always think of a good excuse if whoever answered the door wasn’t pleased to see her.
After a second or two in the gloomy corridor the dazzling lights sprang into action, and Scarlett set off purposefully towards the exit from their wing and the staircase that would lead her into the smarter section of the building.
The Sixth Window Page 13
