Lucas (36 page)

‘Which way did he go?' asked Dad.

‘Along the beach.'

‘This old man you saw sitting on the beach – would he have seen him?'

‘Probably – he was down in that little sandy dip where the rock-pools are. Do you know where I mean?'

Dad nodded. ‘So Tait would have passed him?'

‘Unless he cut across the marshes to the creek.'

‘What about
Angel?'
I said impatiently. ‘Did you see her?'

Lucas nodded. ‘Yeah, she was OK. Dishevelled. A bit drunk and teary, a bit sorry for herself, and very angry. But she was all right.'

‘What?
She wasn't—'

‘Tait didn't hurt her … not badly, anyway. He slapped her face, but he didn't cut her. I'm not sure he even … you know. And even if he did, she didn't seem that bothered about it. At least, that's what she wanted me to think.'

‘You spoke to her?'

‘I asked her if she was all right.'

‘What did she say?'

‘She told me to go away.'

‘Go away?'

‘Something like that.'

‘What did you do?'

‘I went away.'

I looked at Dad, waiting for him to say something, but he remained silent. I looked at Lucas. He was staring
intently through the window.

‘Did you hear that?' he said suddenly.

‘What?'

‘Listen,' he whispered.

I couldn't hear anything.

‘There's nothing—'

‘Shhh!'

Downstairs, Deefer barked.

‘There,' said Lucas. ‘Did you hear that?'

‘That was Deefer,' I said.

‘Not that – there was something down the lane.' He peered out into the darkness. ‘A metallic sound …' He stared out into the night for a while then turned around and started talking. There was a fresh urgency to his voice. ‘Anyway, after I'd spoken to Angel I left the pillbox and headed back to the woods. There was no point going to the festival any more. Angel would be getting back there soon enough and it wasn't hard to imagine what she'd have to say. She'd seen me at the pillbox, she had a slapped face, my footprints were all over the place. I wouldn't have lasted five minutes.' He looked over at me. His face appeared gaunt and old – the blue of his eyes was dying. He glanced out of the window again. ‘I was about halfway across the mud flats when I looked around and saw someone crossing the marshes towards the pillbox. A young woman, a girl. Seventeen, maybe eighteen.'

‘Do you know who it was?' asked Dad.

Lucas avoided the question. ‘She had long black hair,' he said, ‘wrap-around sunglasses, a confident walk. She was wearing a black swimming costume under a loose white shirt and she was carrying something, some kind of shoulder bag. She must have come along the creek path.'

‘Did she see you?'

‘I think so. She stopped for a moment and looked over in my direction and then she hurried on into the pillbox. I thought at first she might be a friend of Angel's, that maybe she'd been keeping an eye out for her or something … but she didn't look the type. There was something about her … something unsettling.' He nipped at the curtain and looked down the lane, then he turned around and faced us. ‘I started back, but the tide was high and the mud flats were nearly waist deep, so it was slow going. By the time I was through them and onto the beach the girl in the swimsuit was already out of the pillbox and heading back along the creek path. When I reached the edge of the saltmarshes she was gone.' He stared at nothing. ‘She did it. It wasn't Tait – it was her. She's the one that attacked Angel.'

‘Are you sure?' Dad asked gently.

Lucas nodded. ‘When I went down into the pillbox Angel was lying on the floor with her head in her hands … she was covered in blood. I checked her over. She was drifting in and out of consciousness and her pulse was weak, but her breathing was OK. I cleared her mouth and got her into the recovery position then tried to stop the worst of the bleeding—'

‘You
fixed up her leg?' Dad said.

He nodded again. ‘While I was working on it I heard someone sniffing around outside. I thought it was Tait for a minute, or the girl in the swimsuit, so I hid away in the shadows at the back of the pillbox. Then the old man from the beach poked his head through the slot in the wall. When he saw Angel he nearly died of shock.'

‘Did he see you?'

Lucas shook his head. ‘I don't think so. It was pretty dark in there and he didn't hang around. He came down
into the pillbox and took a quick look at Angel, but as soon as he saw all the blood, he was away, rushing off towards the village.'

‘What did you do then?'

He shrugged. ‘Not much … I did what I could for the girl – kept her warm, checked her pulse, slowed the bleeding – and then after a while I heard you and Mr Patel coming along the beach, arguing with a bunch of boys.' He looked at Dad, a hint of helplessness showing in his eyes. ‘I had to leave then. Her blood was all over me, I had a knife in my belt … I was already suspected of attacking her. No one would have believed what really happened. No one. I
had
to go …'

‘It's OK,' Dad said quietly. ‘I understand.'

Lucas took a deep breath and slumped down into the chair. ‘I went back to the woods and started getting my stuff together. I saw you going down into the pillbox … then the helicopter arrived … and that's about it, really. You know the rest.'

Dad stood up and walked over to him. He put his hand on his shoulder, gave it a squeeze, then moved off wearily to the window.

‘It was Sara,' I said quietly.

Dad turned around. ‘What?'

‘The girl Lucas saw – it was Sara Toms. Jamie's girlfriend. When I saw Jamie and Angel heading off to the beach there was someone in a car watching them. A white Mercedes. Sara's got a white Mercedes.'

Dad stared at me, thinking it through. After a minute he turned to Lucas.

‘Do you know Sara Toms?' he asked. ‘Have you ever seen her?'

‘From a distance.'

‘Could it have been her?'

He nodded.

‘How sure are you?'

‘It was her.'

‘Damn.'

Lucas grinned coldly. ‘Makes it a bit complicated, doesn't it?'

‘It does for you,' replied Dad. ‘Christ … no wonder Bob Toms was acting so strangely. How the hell did he know?'

‘Did you smell the perfume in there?' Lucas asked.

Dad looked at him. ‘Angel's?'

Lucas looked to me. ‘Would Angel wear Chanel?'

‘No chance.'

‘Do you know anyone who does?'

I didn't have to answer.

Lucas turned to Dad. ‘Does a father recognise his daughter's scent?'

‘I wouldn't – but Bob Toms probably would. My God … he must have known straight away. He must have guessed.'

‘Exactly,' said Lucas. ‘That's why I have to get off the island. Toms can probably cover up the forensics and fix an alibi for Sara, but I'm the one he really needs to fix.'

‘No,' said Dad. ‘I can't believe that. Bob Toms might be a lot of things – he
is
a lot of things – but I can't believe he'd go that far—'

‘Of course he will,' Lucas said. ‘He's already started.'

‘No … I'll talk to him—'

‘Waste of time. This is his daughter he's trying to save. He's not going to listen to sense.' He looked at Dad. ‘Imagine Cait had attacked someone with a knife and
you
had the power to blame it on a dirty little gypsy who
everyone thinks is a pervert anyway. Don't tell me you wouldn't do it.'

‘I wouldn't.'

Lucas smiled. ‘You're a fine story-teller, John – but a hopeless liar.'

The room sank into silence.

I wished I was confused. I wished I didn't understand what was going on. I wished I could just get into bed and go to sleep and then wake up in the morning with everything back to normal. But I knew it wouldn't happen. I could see it all too clearly. Everything led to here. This was it. There was nowhere else to go.

It was a dead end.

Just then a loud metallic clink echoed out from the lane. We all heard it this time. Deefer barked and Dad and Lucas rushed to the window. As I followed them I heard the roar of a motorcycle starting up somewhere along the lane. Dad pulled Lucas away from the window.

‘Get down!' he hissed.

Lucas sank to his knees and Dad flung open the curtains. Although dawn had broken, the light was dim and hazy and the sky was darkened with storm clouds. I could hear the sound of the motorcycle racing up the lane but I couldn't see anything.

‘Where is it?' I said.

‘He's got his lights off,' Dad replied. ‘Wait a minute – there!' He pointed past the yard and I saw a flash of black against the grey of the hedge. I watched the blurred black shape speeding up the drive and crashing through the puddles, and then it faded from view. I heard the engine slow at the top of the drive, I heard it pull out onto the lane, and then I heard it race away into the morning gloom.

‘Shit,' said Dad, dropping the curtain and turning to the doorway as Dominic came in. ‘Did you see him?'

Dom nodded. ‘Mick Buck.'

Lucas stood up. ‘He must have been there all night waiting for me. He's gone to tell the others I'm here. I'm sorry, I should have known. I'll go.'

Dad took hold of him. ‘You're not going anywhere, son.'

‘I'm not—'

‘Shut up and listen. You're exhausted. There's another storm on the way. You're staying here.'

‘No, I can't—'

Dad pushed him gently but firmly into the chair. ‘We've got about half an hour before they get here. An hour at the most. Dom, pop up to Rita's and let them know what's going on. They should be all right, but tell them to stay inside and keep everything locked. When you get back, take the car and park it across the driveway, about halfway up. Then get back in here.'

‘OK.'

Dad turned to me. ‘Get dressed and get Lucas up in the attic. I want you both to stay up there until I say otherwise. All right?'

I nodded.

He looked at Dom. ‘Go.'

Dom left.

Dad looked at Lucas. ‘Can I trust you to look after my daughter?'

‘It'd be safer for all of you if I left. They're not going to leave if they know I'm here.'

‘I asked you a question.'

Lucas looked at me, then at Dad. ‘You can trust me.'

‘Good. Well – what are you waiting for? The lady wants
to get dressed. Make yourself useful and get some coffee going.' He grinned. ‘Do you know how to use a kettle?'

Lucas breathed in through his teeth and rolled his eyes. ‘Well, I don't know about that … is it one of them newfangled electric ones?'

Dad smiled and opened the door. ‘Out.'

They left together and I started getting dressed. As they went down the hall I could hear them talking. They sounded like old friends. Calm, quiet, perfectly at ease with each other. I listened hard, trying to hear what they were saying, but all I could hear was Dad's quiet laughter drifting away down the stairs.

I
dressed quickly and started getting the ladder down from the attic. The storm was rising again. Driving rain was beginning to pound against the windows and the skies were rumbling. For just a moment I let myself think that if it got any worse it might dampen things down a bit. A cold wind, a good strong downpour … maybe it would put the fire out …

Yeah, I thought, just like it did yesterday.

The ladder trundled down and I automatically stepped to one side to avoid getting clonked on the head. The whirring sound was just as I remembered it – the sound of secrets and darkness. I began to climb the cold metal rungs, one at a time. I was halfway up when Lucas appeared on the landing carrying two mugs of coffee.

‘Your dad says to hurry up,' he said.

‘Just a minute.' I climbed up through the hatchway and felt the familiar seam of cold air cooling my face. I breathed in the smell of soot and old wood. Nothing had changed. I turned to Lucas. ‘Come on then. Pass me those.'

He stepped on to the ladder and passed me the coffees. I placed them on the attic floor.

I said, ‘Let me get in and then you can come up.' I hoisted myself into the attic, turned on the light, and sat cross-legged on the floor. ‘OK,' I called down.

As Lucas climbed the ladder, I looked around the attic.

I could see the dark beams and the scarred rafters and the light of the sky glinting through the cracked slate tiles. I could hear the rain pattering on the roof and birds scratching in the eaves … and I knew. I'd known all along that it was going to end here. Here, among the dusty things hanging from beams … here was a world that was anything I wanted it to be. A desert island, the woods …

Only now I wasn't alone.

Lucas's head appeared through the hatchway.

‘Nice,' he said, gazing around.

‘Yeah, it is. I like it.'

He pulled himself up and sat down next to me. I pressed a switch and the ladder started to trundle back up. Lucas watched it, fascinated.

‘Electric,' I smiled.

‘Ah …'

The ladder's feet slid through the hatchway, the ladder clanked to a halt, and the hatch flapped shut behind it. I reached across and fastened the latch.

‘Here,' I said, passing Lucas a coffee and waving my hand at the attic. ‘Make yourself at home.'

He got up and began looking around, keeping his head down to avoid the beams.

‘Is it safe?' he asked, looking at the floor.

‘As long as you keep to the central walkway.'

‘What happens if I don't?'

‘You'll fall through the ceiling.'

While he carried on poking around, looking at this and that, studying the things hanging on the wall, examining the contents of boxes, I went over and sat in a battered old chair beside the water tank. Shadowed light fell from the bare lightbulb hanging from the rafters. It was only a weak light and the attic was still quite dark. Dark, but not
gloomy, like the inside of a tent on a rainy day. Or the inside of a den, snug and warm, with the rain ticking on the plastic sheeting, a wood fire smouldering outside, the smell of the smoke drifting in the rain …