Hide and Secrets

by Sophie McKenzie

  ‘Do you think I should try to send my mum another message?’ I ask. ‘Explain that we’ll be back tomorrow, in case the signal comes and goes?’

  ‘She’s going to love that.’ Tyler grimaces. ‘Still, you should. Otherwise they’ll call the police. I’ll send one to my dad too. Hopefully one of them will get through.’

  I flop on to the ground and write a text explaining that we’re going to have to spend the night away, asking Mum to let Mr Tuesday know – and reassuring her, again, that Bess is fine. I press send, even though there’s no signal. The message flashes that it’s failed.

  The light is starting to fade now. Insects buzz in the faint last rays of sun. It’s nowhere near as warm as it was earlier, but there’s no wind here. I can’t even smell the sea any more.

  Tyler sits down beside me. ‘I meant to ask earlier,’ he says. ‘What name did that Mac guy say your dad is using now?’

  I stare at him, heart sinking. ‘I didn’t think to ask him.’ I groan. ‘God, I’m so stupid.’ I put my head in my hands, feeling crushed.

  ‘No, you’re not.’ Tyler’s fingers curl around mine.

  I look up.

  ‘Listen, whatever name your dad was using, he probably changed it again when he moved on from the trailer park. I mean, if he didn’t tell Mac where he was going, why would he have said what he was going to call himself when he got there?’

  I smile. ‘Thanks for being here,’ I say.

  ‘Are you kidding?’ Tyler grins. ‘This is great. A night out under the stars. I mean, I could do with a burger and chips, but…’

  I sigh. We finished Mac’s offering hours ago. I ate less than the others and hunger is now seriously gnawing at my stomach.

  ‘Don’t,’ I groan. ‘I’m starving.’

  We sit in silence for a little while. The only sound is the wind across the field and the gentle sound of Bess’s breathing. Night falls and the farm equipment in the corner casts a shadow in the moonlight. It looks like a claw. I shiver.

  ‘Cold?’ Tyler asks, huddling closer.

  He puts his arm around my shoulders and I let myself sink against him, feeling the warmth of his chest through his top. To my surprise, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

  Tyler pulls at the nearest bale of hay, packing the soft yellow strands on either side of us. ‘If we stay close to each other, we’ll be okay,’ he says.

  I snort. ‘Does that line work for you often?’

  I’ve never spoken to him like this before – all confident and bantering. For a second I freeze, worried he’ll be offended. But Tyler just laughs, then draws me closer and I relax against him again.

  I’m happy, I realize, even though it’s dark and cold and my sister’s only little and shouldn’t be spending the night outside like this and I’m still feeling frightened that the FFG will find Dad before we do, not to mention guilty that Mum is bound to be worrying about us.

  I’m happier, in fact, than I’ve felt for a long time, perhaps since Dad went missing. I’m doing what I need to do. And Tyler has his arms around me. And even if that doesn’t mean to him quite what I wish it did, it still feels good. I gaze up at the sky. It looks like a mass of sequins cast over a big black shawl. I haven’t seen a clear sky full of stars like that since Dad took me out in the Marvista a few weeks before he disappeared.

  ‘There’s Orion’s Belt, Kitterbug,’ he had said, pointing to the night sky. ‘And there’s Polaris, the North Star. It’s bright, so it’s easy to spot and once you’ve found it you can always work out where you are.’

  ‘The star to bring you home,’ I murmur, remembering Dad’s words.

  ‘What’s that?’ Tyler asks.

  ‘The stars have shapes. I was just finding the Little Dipper,’ I explain, leaning away from him to indicate the right spot in the sky. ‘It’s like a spoon with a long handle. Polaris is at the end. There. It’s super-bright, so you can use it to work out where you’re going.’

  Tyler follows my pointing finger. ‘Wow,’ he says, shifting closer to me. ‘So which way is that?’

  He points in the direction we were walking earlier.

  ‘North-west.’ I make a face. ‘Which explains where we were going wrong earlier. We should have stayed more directly north.’

  ‘At least we know now.’ Tyler leans back against the hay bale, his arm back around me. I hesitate, trying to work out whether or not Tyler will really be interested if I tell him more about the stars.

  His breathing grows shallow and even. I glance round. He’s already asleep.

  I don’t remember dropping off myself, but when I wake in the dark, a few hours later, Tyler is still holding me, hay packed around us. I raise my head enough to see Bess on her soft pallet, snuggled up under our jackets.

  Tyler murmurs in his sleep, then nuzzles into my neck. His eyes are softly closed, his expression peaceful. And then he shifts, just a fraction. His lips brush past mine before he settles into the new position, still fast asleep.

  It’s an accident. The tiniest kiss. But my lips are on fire where his touched them.

  I’m certain I’ll never get back to sleep.

  23

  I’m woken by the familiar tug of Bess’s hand on my arm. I sit up, feeling stiff and frozen. The dawn sky is wide with a grey, pinkish light. There’s no sign of Tyler. I get up, looking around.

  ‘Did you see where he went?’ I ask.

  Bess indicates the field opposite ours. She’s shivering with cold, her eyes wide with a mix of anxiety and indignation.

  ‘Hey, this is, like, the craziest most fun adventure ever, isn’t it?’ I say, smiling to reassure her.

  She stares at me, clearly unconvinced, then shivers again. Feeling guilty, I draw Tyler’s jacket tightly around her and rub up and down her arms. A moment later, Tyler appears from behind a tree and lopes over. I run my fingers through my hair, watching the easy way he walks and wishing we had something to eat or drink.

  ‘I thought there might be a signal over there, but there isn’t,’ Tyler says, sinking down to the ground beside me. ‘On the plus side, the message to my dad that we’re all okay but we wouldn’t be back last night went through at about midnight.’

  ‘Did he reply?’ I ask, meaning: is he mad?

  ‘No.’ Tyler chews on his lip. ‘I guess there was only a signal for a few moments.’

  I check my phone, but the text to Mum still hasn’t sent. I make a face. ‘I hope your dad passed on your message,’ I say, ‘because my phone didn’t send mine.’ I sigh. ‘At least we know which direction to go in.’

  ‘Let’s keep moving.’

  We walk on, warming gradually as the sun rises. Tyler clearly has no memory of our accidental kiss in the middle of the night. Neither of us talks much; we’re all severely hungry and thirsty. Bess drags her feet. She hasn’t smiled since we got up and still seems both anxious and grumpy.

  I can’t really blame her.

  After another half-hour we find a main road and, at last, a sign:

  Hallerton East ½ mile

  An arrow points the way. ‘This is it,’ I say.

  Tyler gives me an encouraging nod.

  We walk on, in single file, through the trees. It’s now almost 6 a.m. and the sun is properly up. There are dark clouds in the far distance and a crispness to the air, but overhead the skies are clear and blue, daylight filtering prettily through the trees. The growing warmth of the day barely registers. I forget how hungry and thirsty I am. My nerves are building. Even if we can find Julie Walker, there’s no guarantee she’ll have any idea where Dad is. It’s another long shot.

  And, after all this effort, the thought that it might be a dead end fills me with despair.

  We emerge from the little wood, to find ourselves on a small, rough dirt path. We walk along the track, past a series of small houses. Another open field appears ahead, with the sea – dark, distant clouds still hovering above the water – visible beyond.

  ‘Is this an actual place?’ Tyler
sounds astonished. He looks back along the short track. ‘I didn’t know villages could be this small.’

  ‘I guess we have to knock on some of the doors, see if anyone knows a Julie Walker.’

  We turn around and retrace our steps. Bess looks up at me enquiringly. She wants to know why we’re here. I carefully avoid meeting her gaze. She stops walking, her arms folded, bad-temperedly, across her chest. A man is just getting into his car outside the second house on the right.

  ‘Excuse me,’ I ask. ‘We’re looking for Julie? Julie Walker?’

  ‘Next house up on the left,’ the man says.

  Hope surges through me. I meet Tyler’s surprised gaze.

  ‘Looks like she’s here, then,’ he says.

  I nod, my nerves shredding as we reach the next house, Bess trudging gloomily a few paces behind us. I knock lightly on the door.

  Nobody answers. I wait. Tyler walks along the front of the house, then hurries back.

  ‘I can hear a kid talking around the back. There’s a side passage…’ He looks at me enquiringly.

  I nod. ‘Maybe I should go alone first, see if Julie’s here?’ I say, softly. ‘I’ll come back and get you and Bess if it’s okay. Yeah?’

  ‘Sure.’ Tyler says.

  I glance at Bess. She scowls at me, then looks away.

  I hurry past the front of the house. It’s a small cottage. Through the window I can see two sofas covered with children’s toys. Mac had said Julie was a young mum. Feeling more hopeful, I peer round the rough stone wall of the cottage into the garden beyond. A little boy is playing on a climbing frame in the middle of a large patch of scrubby grass. A young woman with long blonde hair in a ponytail is standing with her back to me, watching him. She’s holding a baby, its chubby arms clutching at her neck, its little face peering over her shoulder. The baby sees me and smiles.

  Is this Julie? Mac only mentioned her having a little boy.

  I take a step towards her.

  ‘Hello!’ I call out. ‘Julie?’

  The woman turns and walks over. She’s smiling, though there’s a slight wariness in her bright blue eyes. Strands of her fair hair fall on to her shoulders. The baby clutches at them with his chubby fists.

  ‘I’m Julie. Can I help you?’ she asks.

  ‘I’m looking for… for my dad,’ I say. ‘A guy called Mac from the caravan park at Saltcliff – he said you knew my dad too, and that you might know where he was.’

  Julie blinks at me. ‘Are… are you Cat?’ she asks, her eyes rounding in shock.

  I nod, my throat tight. So Dad’s shown her my picture, just like he did with Mac.

  We stare at each other.

  ‘Do… do you know where my dad might be?’ I ask.

  Julie studies me intently. ‘He always wondered if one day you might come looking for him,’ she says.

  ‘Really?’ My heart leaps. ‘Dad said that?’

  Julie gives me a soft smile. ‘He made me promise I’d never tell anyone his real name; he was terrified someone would find out about his past,’ she says. There’s something down-to-earth about her. A calming quality that reminds me a bit of Mr Tuesday. ‘I’m not supposed to talk to anyone about him,’ she goes on, ‘but I know he’d want me to make an exception for you.’

  I nod, hanging on her words. This is what Rik said from the start. That I was the only person who could track Dad down. I swell with pride and excitement.

  ‘So…?’ I prompt.

  ‘Your dad lives here,’ Julie says, indicating the house behind her.

  I stare at her. Is she serious?

  The baby in her arms wriggles, letting out a complaining yelp.

  ‘Er, this is Finn,’ she says, waving the baby’s hand at me. ‘He’s always on the move, aren’t you, Finny?’ She glances back at me and there’s something guarded, suddenly, in her expression.

  I peer at Finn. A horrifying thought strikes me.

  Could he be Dad’s baby?

  No way. I shunt the idea away, my cheeks burning.

  ‘Your dad’s not at home right now, though,’ Julie goes on. ‘He’s down on the beach, but it’s easy enough to find.’

  ‘How… how do I get there?’ I stammer.

  ‘Down the track to your right, into the old town. There’s a few shops, most of them boarded up, but stay on the road till you get to the sea. There’s a bus shelter on the right. Your dad’ll be in the next bay along from there, tinkering with his boat on the beach.’ She pauses. ‘I’d call and let him you’re coming, but the signal’s rubbish here.’

  I stand still for a moment, unable to take in the fact that after all my searching, I’m so close to actually seeing Dad again. I want to ask Julie about Finn before I leave, but I can’t find the words so instead I say a hoarse thank you, then go back to the front of the house.

  Tyler looks up as I appear. He must be able to see the emotion on my face, but he doesn’t ask me anything until we’re walking along the track and Bess has, once again, fallen behind us, dragging her feet as she plods along.

  ‘What happened?’ he whispers.

  I tell Tyler quietly about Julie and Finn. ‘I think I should talk to Dad first, then talk to Bess before the two of them see each other. So they both have a bit of time to get their heads around it.’

  Tyler nods. We follow the road down to the shore. It’s a small stony bay, with a bus shelter in front and high rocks rising up on either side. The tide is out, just as Julie said it would be, and the beach stretches towards the water. I gaze to the right. Is Dad really there? Just around the high rocks in the next bay?

  ‘How about I take Bess for a walk?’ Tyler whispers. ‘You can come and find us once you’ve spoken to your dad. He can wait while you tell Bess that he’s… that you’ve found him. Then we can take her to meet him.’

  I nod.

  ‘Come on, Bess,’ Tyler says in a loud, cheerful voice. ‘Let’s see if you can cartwheel as well as me on the beach.’

  Bess shoots him a sulky look, but follows him across the stones. She doesn’t give me a backward glance. I guess she’s still mad at me for not telling her why we’re here. Or perhaps she’s just completely fed up about being made to wander around for such a long time.

  Hopefully, once she sees Dad she’ll forget everything else. I take a deep breath, praying that Dad will really be in the next bay. My legs start shaking as I make my way past the high rocks and into the bay on the right.

  I stop, stock still. Even though I’ve been expecting him, it feels like someone chucked a bucket of seawater in my face.

  Dad is right there, just a few metres away. He’s bent over a little boat, sanding the hull. I watch the familiar movement. His hair – longer than I remember – falls over his face and he brushes it back.

  It’s really him. The same. And yet not the same. I want to move, to run towards him, but my feet are stuck to the ground.

  And then something makes Dad look up and he sees me. His jaw drops.

  I force my shaky legs to start moving towards him as Dad takes one step, then another, then breaks into a run, crunching across the stones, closing the space between us. He stops in front of me and peers, in wonder, at my face, as if he’s looking at something he thought he had lost for ever.

  ‘Kitterbug?’ His voice is hoarse. ‘Is that really you?’

  24

  My heart pounds as we stare at each other.

  Dad is looking at me like I’m not real. Like I’m a ghost.

  ‘You’re the ghost,’ I want to say. But no words come out. As if – the thought flickers like a match sparking and dying – as if I were Bess, my voice caught in my throat.

  We’re still standing on the stony beach, eyes on each other’s faces. Time slows down. There are more lines on his face than in my memory. More grey hair than in any of the photos.

  ‘Cat?’ Dad says at last. He takes another step forward. He’s right in front of me now, filling my vision. He clutches me by both arms. ‘How did…?’ His voice is hoarse. �
��How are you here?’

  I nod, still unable to speak. The wind roars in off the sea. A seagull squawks.

  ‘Oh, Cat.’ Dad pulls me into a hug. I close my eyes, letting his arms enfold me, breathing in his familiar scent of sawdust and soap, now combined with something else… a deeper, muskier smell I don’t remember.

  The hug feels familiar and yet strange.

  What it doesn’t do, is make me feel safe, like his hugs used to. Too much has happened. I pull away.

  ‘Dad?’ I say, finding my voice at last. But I don’t know where to begin. There are too many questions in my head.

  Dad nods, as if he understands. ‘How did you find me?’ he asks.

  ‘The brochures. Your credit card stuff. And the Marvista,’ I explain. ‘I knew you’d go somewhere near the sea. That got me to the caravan park at Saltcliff, then your friend Mac mentioned Julie and… here I am.’

  A slow smile spreads across Dad’s face. ‘Clever Cat,’ he says.

  His praise used to make me feel like I was glowing inside, but right now I’m numb. My mind flashes back to the little cottage up the hill. And the baby in Julie’s arms.

  ‘Are you and Julie?’ I ask. ‘Is she… is her…?’

  ‘No, Kitterbug, of course not.’ Dad makes a face as if the relationship I’m hinting at would be totally crazy. ‘Julie’s a good friend. She’s just putting me up for a bit.’ He pauses, looking around. ‘I can’t believe you found me. Are you here on your own?’ His eyes fill with alarm. Where’s your mum?’

  ‘She doesn’t know I’m here,’ I explain. ‘I’m with my friend Tyler – and… and with Bess.’

  ‘Bess is here?’ Dad’s eyes light up with shocked delight.

  ‘She’s along in the next bay.’ I point. ‘You need to come with me and we’ll get her and you can explain everything to us both.’

  ‘No.’ Dad shakes his head, his face clouding over. ‘No, Cat. I don’t think Bess should see me. It’s too confusing and upsetting for a little child.’

  ‘She’s almost seven, Dad.’ There’s a thick lump in my throat. ‘She’s not that little.’

  ‘I know,’ he says, sounding sadder than I’ve ever heard anyone.