by Colin Garrow
'I've nothing to say about that.' He waved a shaky finger at me. 'And you shouldn't even be thinking about going up there. No telling what might happen.'
'We can't go up there,' put in Suzi. 'We don't know where it is.'
Mr Dangerfield shook his head. 'Then that's where you ought to leave it. There's nowt but trouble to be had from sticking your noses in Nathaniel Darke's business.'
Me and Suzi looked at each other. Mr Dangerfield seemed to realise he'd said something significant. He moved forward and started pushing us towards the front door.
'Like I said, there's nowt good'll come of going up there. Believe me - I know.'
I turned and looked at him. There was real fear in his face - fear like I'd experienced myself, but much worse. 'But Mr Dangerfield...'
'Now come on, you two,' said his wife, herding us out the door. 'I'm not having Reg upset. Not with his heart the way it is. Go on, get off the pair of you.'
I stopped at the door. 'I'm sorry Mrs D, we were just trying to find out stuff...'
'I'm sure you were, pet, but you'll have to be finding it out from someone else.'
As she closed the door, I caught the look on her face. It wasn't fear like I'd seen in her husband's eyes, but she was definitely scared.
Back outside, we retreated to the corner and sat on the wall.
'What the heck happened there?' said Suzi.
'Dunno. He looked terrified.'
She nodded. 'And her. Like they've seen something really bad.'
I looked back at the house. 'I think we've opened one big bag of worms.'
Seven
When I got home, Mr Taylor was sitting at our kitchen table drinking tea and eating a slice of Mum's lemon sponge.
'Ohg, heb-bo,' he mumbled through a mouthful of cake. 'Been out, eh?'
'Obviously,' I said, less than impressed. I looked at Mum. She coughed and pushed her tea plate, and the half-eaten slice of cake, away from her, as if she hadn't really been enjoying it.
'George was just...' She waved a hand in the air. 'Just popped in, didn't you, George?' She turned her head so I wouldn't see the sharp look she gave him, but I saw it anyway.
I'd never heard anyone call him George before. Course, I knew he had a first name, just hadn't known what it was. And that he was friendly with Mum was hardly front page news either, but he'd never been round the house before. At least, not when I was there.
'What's for tea?' I said, avoiding Mr Taylor's (George's), eye.
Mum seemed to brighten up at the prospect of changing the subject. 'Do your favourite if you like, love?' She was looking right at me and I saw her skin had a pinkish glow to it, the way it did when she'd been laughing a lot, like when me and her used to watch Barry Bell and the Bell's Angels on telly.
'Fine.' I looked at the intruder. 'Staying for tea, are you? George?'
'Jeff...' Mum started to get up.
I went to the freezer and yanked the door open. A half-opened pack of Captain Cockeyed's Fishy Fingers peeked out from under a bag of crinkle-cut chips. I didn't relish the prospect of hanging around while Mum cooked them, so I shut the freezer and swivelled round. 'There aren't any.'
'Aren't there? Oh...' She started towards the freezer, then changed her mind and went to the back door, rooting around in her coat pocket for her purse. 'Must've left it in my bag.' She glanced at Mr Taylor then hurried through to the living room.
I leaned awkwardly against the corner of the fridge, trying to look indifferent and hoping our visitor wouldn't expect me to entertain him. But Mr Taylor had other ideas.
Clearing his throat, he slid round in his chair. 'Not had any luck finding Jimmy, then?'
'No,' I said.
He nodded slowly and looked away. Then, 'We should probably leave it to the police anyway...'
'Yes,' I said.
'What I mean is,' he went on, 'I don't want you going looking for him...you know, on your own. It's too dangerous.'
'No.'
He gave me a funny look, but before I could say anything more, Mum came back in carrying her purse.
She pulled out a pound note and forced a smile. 'Here you are Jeff, away and get yourself some fish and chips.' She held her hand out. 'Special treat.'
I wanted to say something about Fat Bob's mother giving him fish and chips for tea every night, but I couldn't work out how to say it without having to explain what I meant. And anyway, I didn't want Mum thinking Fat Bob's parents didn't look after him properly.
So I just took the money. 'Thanks.'
I went to the door, then had an idea. 'Remember I'm staying at Suzi's tonight?'
Mum looked at George, then at me. There was an odd expression on her face, like relief or something. 'Tonight? Well, alright, pet. But don't forget to take your school things an that.'
'I won't.'
A minute later, I was out the door and free. At least, I would be if Suzi's parents didn't object.
I stopped off at The Cod Piece on the way and got a portion of chips with gravy. The rest of the money went into my secret stash in my school bag. I hung about outside Fat Moe's until I'd finished the chips then legged it down to Suzi's house.
Mr Charlton inclined his head and raised one eyebrow. 'Our Suz didn't mention it...' He looked over his shoulder.
'We planned it ages ago,' I said, nodding.
'I see. And your ma's fine with that, is she?'
I nodded again and made a mental note to stop nodding. 'I've got my school stuff an everything.'
He stepped back from the door and waved me inside. 'Go on, then, you know where she is.'
I ran up the stairs to the back of the house and knocked on Suzi's door.
To her credit, she did a great impression of not looking at all surprised. I told her about Mr Taylor being at ours and she asked lots of relevant questions, like: did I think there was something going on? Had he been to ours before? Did my Mum like him?
We talked a bit about our plans for the next day then went downstairs to watch The Golden Pie Pot Shot with Suzi's mum and dad. The four of us sat there in silence and even though there were some funny bits, like where the host Marshall Meringue dropped a pie and got steak and kidney all down his trousers, nobody laughed.
When the programme finished, Mr Charlton went out to 'do things' in his workshop and Suzi's mum said she was going to walk down to the phone box to call Uncle Joe, adding that she expected we'd be in bed by the time she got back.
When they'd both gone, Suzi turned the volume down. I asked her if there was anything wrong.
She sucked in her lower lip and chewed on it for a minute. 'Think they're worried. You know what grown-ups are like?'
'My mum's the same.'
We sat for a few moments ruminating on the difficulties of having parents, then Suzi got up to turn the TV off.
'Hang on,' I said, leaning forward. 'What's that?'
The local news had come on and the presenter, Johnnie Barnesworth, was on the telephone. That sort of thing didn't often happen, so it must be an important news flash.
Suzi turned the sound up and sat back down. 'What's going on?'
A photograph of a boy had flashed up behind the presenter. The kid's face looked familiar, though for a minute I couldn't think who he was.
'That's Neville Mole,' said Suzi, staring at the image. 'He's in the year below us.'
I shushed her to be quiet, but now she'd said his name, I recognised him. Listening to the report it seemed Neville hadn't come home the night before and the police weren't ruling out that there might be a link to Jimmy Brick's disappearance.
'Crumbs,' I muttered.
The news finished and the adverts came on. Suzi turned the TV off.
'It has to be connected.'
I nodded. 'But how?'
We chatted about it for a while but couldn't think of any reason Jimmy would have teamed up with Neville - they didn't even like each other. So there had to be another explanation, one that included both of them.
Suzi yawned and I realised it was getting late.
'So where am I going to sleep?'
She rubbed her chin exaggeratedly. 'Let's see...there's the coal shed, or my dad's workshop, or...'
I punched her shoulder and tried to laugh, but there was a sort of tension between us that I hadn't felt before. I said, 'It is alright, isn't it? Me sleeping over?'
'Course. It's just...you know. We're not kids anymore. I mean, we are, but...' She jumped up. 'I'll get one of the sleeping bags out and you can have a couple of blankets.' She leaned back on the sofa and looked at me, her expression unreadable.
'What?'
'You don't think that...thing might come back?'
'Well, if it does, at least there's two of us.'
She forced a smile, but I could tell she wasn't convinced.
I'd expected to be shunted away in the box room next to the toilet, but Suzi said I could sleep on her bedroom floor, so long as we left the door open. That way her parents wouldn't get uppity about it.
We got snuggled up - her in bed and me in the opposite corner by the wardrobe. We chatted about this and that for a while, then shortly after ten o'clock she switched off her bedside lamp. The light on the landing was still on, granting us a comforting sliver of light across the carpet.
As I didn't feel the least bit sleepy, I made up my mind to stay awake as long as possible, partly in case anything untoward occurred. Gazing up at the ceiling, I listened to the sounds of the night - the occasional drunkard singing his way past the house, to Mr Giblet's new puppy howling forlornly in the next street, and to Suzi's breathing as it slowed into a steady rhythm. After about twenty minutes, I could feel my eyelids drooping a little and even though I still wasn't tired, I knew you didn't need to have your eyes open to stay awake, so I thought I'd shut them, just for a few seconds...
I couldn't tell how long I'd been asleep, but the first thing that entered my head when I opened my eyes, was the notion that I'd forgotten something: of course - I'd meant to check if there were streetlights outside Suzi's bedroom window. In any case, it was irrelevant now, but it meant I couldn't be sure if the darkness was due to it being after two o'clock in the morning (when the Council switched off the lights), or if there were some other, more sinister reason for the shroud of gloom that greeted me. Suzi was snoring quietly, but there was no other sound.
The light in the hall was off, but that was to be expected. Nevertheless, I'd have preferred to see something, even a strip of yellow across the middle of the room.
Then I realised there was something on the carpet, exactly where the beam of light had been. Through the gloom, I couldn't tell what it was, and for a moment I wondered if the hall light had somehow left an impression of itself on the carpet.
But that was silly, and besides, if such a thing were possible, I'd have read about it in Weird Scientific Facts Monthly.
Then I remembered I still had my torch in my jeans pocket. Fumbling around in the sleeping bag, I managed to turn it the right way around and find the switch. Placing one hand over the glass, I flicked it on. The light made a pinkish glow in the palm of my hand.
Slowly, I eased my hand away, allowing the meagre beam to light up the patch of carpet nearest my sleeping bag. It was hard to tell in the artificial light whether there was something on the carpet or not. Shuffling round, I rolled closer and held the beam a few inches above the floor. This time, there was definitely a difference in the colour - the section nearest me was the usual shade of dark blue, but next to it the fibres were much darker, as if someone had spilt paint, or some thick liquid across it.
'What're you doing?'
'Jeez!' I jumped back against the wardrobe. 'You nearly gave me a fart attack.'
Hearing her giggle, I lifted my hand. The dull glow from the torch slid across the floor, and moving upwards, caught something in its beam. As the light hit the figure on the end of Suzi's bed, it wasn't only me who screamed.
Mr and Mrs Charlton weren't impressed at being woken up in the middle of the night, but at least they could see the funny side.
Suzi's mum coaxed the cat out from under the bed where it had disappeared a few moments before. 'Come on, puss, come on...'
The creature slunk out of the room, giving me a wide berth.
'I dare say she won't be snuggling up on your bed again for a while,' said Mr Charlton.
When her parents had gone back to their own room, me and Suzi exchanged sheepish smiles.
'Sorry,' I said. 'Didn't know you even had a cat.'
'She's a stray. Only started coming into the house a few days ago.' She giggled. 'I bet she won't be back for a while.' She leaned over to switch the bedside light off again.
'Hang on...'
Suzi frowned. 'What now?'
The section of carpet I'd been looking at before caught my attention again. I'd been right about one thing - there was a darker section across the middle of the floor. 'What's that?'
'What's what?' She got out of bed and came over to where I lay.
'Move back a bit,' I said, waving a hand at her. 'Look at this...' I pointed to the outline. It wasn't as obvious now but there was a definite mark of some sort.
Suzi moved around and peered at the image. 'Weird. It wasn't there before.'
Getting out of my sleeping bag, I stood up and looked down at the shape, then walking over to the window, crouched down and studied the image. From this angle it was easy to see what it was. Like lettering on a road, it only made sense when viewed from a low angle. The elongated image was one I'd seen before. 'Know what I think?'
But Suzi had already worked it out. Her mouth was a tight line, her eyes fixed on the floor. She gave a small nod. 'It's in the shape of a...' She shivered. 'A skull.'
Without another word, I followed her downstairs, she carrying blankets, me lugging my sleeping bag. Suzi made herself comfortable on the living room sofa, while I curled up on her dad's favourite fireside chair, near the still-glowing embers in the grate.
We left a lamp on in the corner, but if was a long time before either of us fell asleep.
Eight
The next day was Monday, and I had to hang around for ages while everyone else in the Charlton family used the bathroom. Next, I checked through my school bag and took out my prized knife. There was no way I wanted to get caught with it at school, so I slipped it into Suzi's bedside cabinet.
At the breakfast table, Mr Charlton patted me on the head as if I were a pet dog, then his wife made me toast and marmalade and gave me a huge mug of MilkyChocShake. I sorted out my school things, then Suzi's mum made sure we were both clean and tidy before allowing us to leave for school.
I waited until we were out of sight of the house before going over our plans again. Since we couldn't very well skip school without anyone noticing, we'd have to make good use of our time, and the only way to do that was to go to the library during our lunch break. Normally, this would have meant going hungry, but I still had money left from buying chips the night before, so we got a bottle of Tizer and a few packets of crisps at the corner shop.
In assembly, we had to sing the usual boring hymns, then the new headmaster droned on about how it was imperative children kept themselves safe and how we should always tell someone where we were going. The likes of James Brick and now Neville Mole, he said, were prime examples of rebelliousness and if the pair of them turned up dead, they would only have themselves to blame.
There was a murmur of disapproval around the hall, including a few of the teachers, but Mr Nash shushed the interruptions and continued his lecture about disobedience and how it contributed to the overall malaise he'd noticed among the pupils of Skeleton Cove School.
The rest of the morning dragged by. We had double English followed by history with Mrs Grant, subjects I generally enjoyed (especially history), but today it was impossible to concentrate. Even the bloody exploits of the Militia during the Un-Civil War couldn't draw my attention away from the more appealing topic of Devilgate Drive.
/> At twelve o'clock, we poured out of the classroom with everyone else, then I waited for Suzi while she 'powdered her nose', before heading for the main entrance. We'd have to be back in school in forty-five minutes otherwise we risked getting caught by Beaky Beaumont and threatened with detention. With a ten-minute walk to the library, I reckoned it'd be pushing our luck to get there, find the information we needed and get back to school before the afternoon bell. Unfortunately, Mr Beaumont was already on duty at the gates, brandishing a clipboard and taking note of anyone who left the premises. If he took our names, he'd be more likely to check up on us coming back, so I made a decision.
'The bike sheds, then through the gardens,' I said, pulling Suzi away from the path.
She nodded. 'Yeah, should be quicker, but we'll have to be sure and come back the same way.'
'Don't matter. So long as we're not late.'
Leaving the school premises from behind the bike sheds wasn't one of my favourite routes, as it was the first place teachers checked when looking for absent kids. However, it was the only place in the school where you could climb unseen over the fence. It led straight into Bonefield Gardens, one of the more modern estates in Skeleton Cove. Going this way also knocked a good five minutes off our walk into town.
The Skeleton Cove Library was next to the Council Offices, where baldy-headed men and scraggy-looking women made decisions about stuff like town planning and housing. My mum said some of the people who worked there were corrupt and renowned for taking backhanders, but I could never understand why anyone would want to work there anyway - the windows were filthy, with green moss growing up the walls, and whenever anyone opened the front door, a cloud of cigarette smoke floated out. Even if the staff did get backhanders, I definitely wouldn't be applying for a job there when I left school.
The library was different - it was clean and warm and the librarians were always smiling (in a please-be-quiet sort of way). The red-headed woman on the desk had a plastic badge on her cardigan declaring her to be Mrs P Leggart - Head Lib. She smiled at Suzi, but gave me a hard stare.
