Black Heart Blue (21 page)

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Authors: Louisa Reid

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #General

BOOK: Black Heart Blue
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I watched as they all bit back exclamations, all except Ben, who jumped up and covered me with a huge hug.

‘I’m glad you isn’t deaded now,’ he said, and I realized I
was too. For a moment no one laughed and then I heard myself giggle.

‘Me too, Ben. Thanks.’ The ice was broken and Danny handed me a hot dog and Cheryl poured me a glass of Coke; the ice clinked as I raised my glass and said cheers with Ben over and over again until Cheryl told him to stop. I perched on a chair and listened to the family around me, everyone glowing in the sun.

I lasted half an hour that day and that was enough. Over the next few days and then weeks the time I spent out of my room gradually increased and we became used to each other. They never made me feel like a nuisance and I helped Cheryl with the cooking and cleaning when she’d let me.

One afternoon Cheryl took me with her to the supermarket to do the big shop.

‘You help me choose, love,’ she said. ‘Get all your favourites.’

I didn’t have favourites, I liked whatever she made and I told her so. But still she encouraged me to pick what I wanted and tried to chat and gossip as we went round the aisles. She thought if she kept me busy I wouldn’t notice people staring. The shop was huge, like the belly of a great whale, and I was sure we’d never find our way out again. The rows and rows of food and clothes and shampoo and tellies and toasters and drink made me dizzy. We’d only ever used the local shop; this was the first time I’d driven to a store since our twelfth birthday.

Finally, able to think of something to ask for, I told Cheryl I’d like ice cream for dessert and she pelted off to find some. I lagged behind, gazing around me. A voice broke through my reverie.

‘Rebecca?’

I recognized that voice immediately. I didn’t want her to stop and talk to me.

‘Rebecca, dear?’ She put her hand on my arm and I paused and waited.

‘How are you? Your parents told me you’d moved out. Where are you living now, then?’ Her voice was heavy with concern, almost hushed with worry.

‘I’m fine, Mrs Sparks, thanks. How are you?’

‘I’m well, of course. Thank you for asking.’

‘Well, I’d best go now.’

‘Oh, of course, dear, but you know, you really ought to go and make things up with your parents – I hope you don’t mind me saying, but they’re devastated, you know. We’re all praying for you.’

I nearly screamed then but remembered where I was just in time.
Have you heard this, Hephzi?
I called, but she gave no reply. Then Cheryl whizzed up, waving her list at me, calling that we ought to hurry. Mrs Sparks eyed her suspiciously.

The women waited to be introduced.

‘Cheryl, this is Mrs Sparks. She lives in my village. She’s a helper at the church.’

‘Churchwarden, actually. I’ve known the girls, I mean Rebecca, all her life.’

‘Oh, have you?’ Cheryl’s voice had taken on an edge. I grabbed the handle of the trolley and started to drag her off in the direction of the tills.

‘I recognize you, I’m sure,’ Mrs Sparks called after us. ‘Aren’t you the wife of the chap who works in the care home?’

‘Don’t answer her, Cheryl, she’s a busybody, she’ll tell them.’

‘I want to give her a bloody piece of my mind,’ muttered Cheryl. She stuffed the food into the thin plastic bags, hurriedly punched numbers into the machine, and I scurried after her as she marched back to the car. On the way home she broke the silence.

‘What I don’t understand is how all these people have just stood back all this time and watched you being treated so bad? I can’t understand it. I can’t.’

She wanted me to explain. I fiddled with my seat belt.

‘I mean, it’s not right, you can’t let that kind of thing go on under your nose and do nothing about it. It’s a bloody disgrace, is what it is.’

I thought about what she was saying.

‘Mrs Sparks did help us, sort of. She gave us things, food, clothes. She tried to help.’

‘Not bloody hard enough, Rebecca. You deserved better.’

Cheryl still didn’t understand how clever The Father was, how good he was at putting on his mask, how well he kept Mrs Sparks in flattery and falsehoods.

‘And as for your aunt and uncle, well, they’re even worse. Your own flesh and blood, just leaving you like that with people I wouldn’t let mind my cat, let alone two defenceless kids!’

Cheryl had been waiting a long time to get this off her chest. I let her talk on as we drove home. Nothing she said was a surprise to me, I’d had years and years to think the same thoughts.

‘Auntie Melissa moved to Scotland. She couldn’t really visit.’

‘Not good enough, I’m afraid.’

‘People don’t bother, they want an easy life.’

‘Well, they should be ashamed of themselves.’

Maybe so. It took too much energy to be angry though, I needed all my strength just to face the rest of my life.

I was almost as happy as I’d ever been living with Danny and his family. But I knew I couldn’t sleep in Archie’s room forever, it wasn’t fair. I sat on the bed and tried to think of an alternative to the situation, but I had no bright ideas. I could really have done with my sister’s input, she knew more about being normal than I did. Her answer had been to get a boyfriend, but that wasn’t an option for me. I’d found a family, but they weren’t really mine and there wasn’t enough room. Even though I did the hoovering and helped make the dinner, I knew it wasn’t much of a contribution and that I shouldn’t outstay my welcome. It was time to go, again.

Then, at the end of the month, the phone went. I was
playing with Ben and thought nothing of it until Cheryl called that it was for me. I didn’t like the look on her face when I took the receiver from her hand and she marched off into the kitchen, muttering under her breath. Holding the phone like I was handling a gun I whispered hello. At first I didn’t recognize the voice on the other end of the line.

‘Hello?’ I managed again.

‘Rebecca. It’s your Aunt Melissa.’

There was a long pause while I processed the information. I could hear her breathing, too fast.

‘Are you still there?’

I nodded but of course she couldn’t hear that. My mouth was far too dry to speak.

‘Well, Rebecca, if you’re listening, I want you to know, I heard what happened, that you’ve left home, and, if you like, well, you’re welcome with us any time.’

She waited for me to respond. Part of me wanted to tell her that she was too late, Hephzi was already dead and I’d managed to get out without anyone else’s help.

‘I’m sorry about it all. I should have done something sooner.’ Her voice became agitated. ‘She never should have married him, we told her at the time, but she was desperate, you know.’

‘What do you mean?’ I interrupted.

‘Your mother. Oh, it’s water under the bridge, but I’m sure it’s all his fault, Roderick’s.’

‘No. Not all.’

‘Yes, well, if you let me know, I’ll be there whenever. Just give us a bit of warning. It’s a bit of a drive.’ She laughed nervously.

‘How did you get this number?’

‘Mrs Sparks, you know the church woman? She called me and let me know what had happened and where you were. I left my number when we were down for, you know, your sister’s funeral.’

I thought about that and wondered what had been said. If Mrs Sparks had worked out where I was then maybe The Parents had too, maybe they’d be coming for me, quiet in the night, to stuff me in a sack and carry me off.

‘I don’t want to see you.’

‘All right, that’s fair enough. But I’d like a chance to talk to you, to explain a few things.’

‘OK,’ I whispered in the end. ‘I’ll let you know.’ She reeled off her number and I scribbled it down and stuffed the paper into my pocket. I dwelt on the call all day and what she’d said about The Parents, deciphering her cryptic clues, filling in the words, completing the puzzle. But I couldn’t get there on my own, there were still too many blanks.

I knew I had to leave Danny and Cheryl’s, I wasn’t their responsibility and their house wasn’t made for so many people – it was starting to split at the seams and though Danny didn’t seem to notice Cheryl looked harassed. But I didn’t know how to leave or where to go next. Living with Auntie Melissa was out of the question. She’d left us
to rot and what if The Parents showed up? I couldn’t rely on Melissa and Simon to back me up and keep me safe. I retreated to Archie’s room and stayed there all day. In the middle of the night I packed my things. Only after that did I fall asleep.

In the morning when the family came down for breakfast I was already ready to go, even though I still had no idea where. Cheryl stared at me as she stood halfway down the stairs, still bleary eyed and in her dressing-gown.

‘What’s up, love? What are you doing up and dressed at this time in the morning?’

I felt horrible making my announcement. ‘I’m leaving today, Cheryl. I just waited, I mean, I wanted to say goodbye and thank you.’

‘You what? You can’t just up and off like that. Don’t be so daft, come and get your breakfast.’

‘No, really, it’s time I went. You’ve been so kind.’ Every word hurt; my throat ached with the effort not to cry. I wished she wouldn’t be so nice. Ben and Archie and the other kids were coming down and I wanted to get out of there before I had to face them too.

‘Thanks again, Cheryl. I’ll be in touch, OK?’

I pulled the front door open and rushed out into the early morning sunshine. Squinting against the brightness, which glared like a spotlight into my eyes, I dashed down the path, holding my carrier bag of things. I hadn’t taken everything that Cheryl had bought for me, only the necessities.

It was stupid of me to go without a proper plan but the dragging sense that I was a burden on these kind people’s lives had become worse than the prospect of finding a new place to stay. I only knew that I needed to find my sister and I walked quickly down the pavement out of the estate and on to the nearby main road. From here I could get a bus back to my own village. I’d wondered if Hephzi was staying away simply because she couldn’t find me. I’d been haunted by the thought that she’d somehow been left behind, trapped in our room in the vicarage, pawing at the window to be let out. If I wanted to see her then I would have to walk back there. That was the only direction I knew and I started the trek though the sun felt warm on my shoulders and head; it would be hot later. The fields to either side of me were full of oilseed rape and my eyes began to stream and my nose to run; the pollen was a
tormenting tickle at the back of my throat. The bright yellow fields reflected the growing glare of the day and I squinted as I walked, my eyes fixed on the pavement before me. For a moment I wondered what would happen if The Father drove past, spotted me and stopped. He could easily bundle me into the back of his car and return me to his lair. The thought pulled me up short and I almost turned around and ran back to the safety of Danny’s house. This was sheer madness. But something called me forward again and I knew it was Hephzi. I had to go back for her.

The heat began to hurt but I kept on and eventually the sign welcoming visitors to our village appeared. Thirsty, I
licked my dry lips, trying not to think about water. Then an idea came to me, all at once, like a sudden downpour of rain and I moved again, faster now that I was almost there. Craig’s estate was closer to the outskirts of the village than the vicarage, which lay right at the other end. It made sense to start there; if Hephzi wasn’t in the vicarage then that was where she was sure to be.

The streets were quiet, a few mums with buggies strolled past on their way to the park to feed the ducks and to push their children high on the swings. A little girl on a scooter, her plaits flying, whizzed by me as her mother hurried behind. I watched the teenagers as they circled the park on their bikes and the little groups of kids, enjoying the final lazy days of summer as they meandered together towards the village open-air pool, their towels tucked under their arms, bottles of Coke swinging from their fingers. Hephzi and I had never been allowed to go, of course. I trudged on. No one noticed me.

Craig’s place was easy to find, Hephzi had taken me there often enough over the past few months. I’d told her to stop making me act like a stalker but she hadn’t cared and told me not to be so selfish. I’d given in, like always. Now I stood in front of the front door, doing nothing, waiting for her to pop up and give me some instructions, like a director charming the best performance out of a difficult star. I sniffed. Nothing but the faint haze of roses from the pot by the front door hung in the air. No Hephzi. It was useless. I turned and walked back down the little
concrete path between the small squares of green lawn. Craig’s bike sat on the road in front of the house and I paused again. It was stupid to come here and not even to check inside, she could be hiding, cross with me for leaving her, that would be the kind of trick she’d play.

Before I could change my mind I turned and scuttled back to the door, pressed the bell hard and waited, listening to the sound of my breathing. No one answered. They could be round the back. I didn’t want to open the gate and stroll round the side of the house like I’d been going there all my life, nor did I want to ring the bell again but I made myself do it, holding the little brass button down longer this time and listening to the buzz reverberate inside the house. Somewhere upstairs there was movement; I sensed thuds and heard a door bang, the tumble of footsteps on the stairs, then there was Craig at the door in boxer shorts, barely awake, peering out through the crack between door and wall, not quite seeing me through the fug of sleep.

‘Yeah?’

I coughed, my throat still tickled with pollen, and rubbed the back of my hand over my nose. I waited for him to notice me. He pushed his hand through his hair, which flopped into his eyes, I’d never seen him without his stupid hat on and he had nice hair, I supposed, for him. He opened his eyes a little wider and realized it was me.

‘What do you want?’ His voice was suddenly angry and loud. I stepped back a pace, surprised at the force of it. It took me all my courage to speak.

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