Love Me to Death Page 5

  As she walked into the room, he knew to be quiet. There was only her now – the sound of her feet on the carpet, the smell of that perfume he knew would linger in the room long after she’d gone. As she stood over the desk, he knew she was looking at his drawings. His stomach was heavy. The waiting was the worst part. She tapped her fingernail on the white table – in the darkness her red nail polish looked black against the white tabletop. He hated her.

  It was coming. The humiliation was already in his mouth and on his skin. As she took a step towards him, he went away from that room to the room that he made for himself a long, long time ago.

  It was dark. The walls were made of soft black sponge like the outside of a microphone. No sounds could get through those walls. They were fat, soft and heavy. There were no doors or windows. Just a box. A little black box with four walls where he could sit and nothing could hurt or get in. It was where he’d learnt to go. He didn’t move. The smell of her perfume got stronger. He stared forward and waited, as she came closer and started to ask about his mother.

  He stayed there until he heard the slam of Mr Anderson’s back gate and he imagined the badgers. The sharp claws, teeth and dark wiry fur as they moved through the wood – the smell of their breath on his skin, the panting, the wetness of their noses. The church clock chimed ten. It had been three hours – longer than he would usually be out. He opened his eyes and she’d gone. He was alone again with only the lingering smell of Chanel on the air. He pictured the badgers in the woods, their fur like black stripes against the snow. They’d be easy to spot. As he lay there, he knew that he would never let her win. In the woods there were creatures. In the woods there were secrets. There were things that he’d never share with her. There was another place out there where creatures were waiting and hiding among the bracken. He would do something good with his life. He wouldn’t just sit there and let her poison his mind with her cruel words. There were secrets to be found. He would do his best to help Maggie find out what happened to her cousin. That way she could go back to the good memories. The excitement she had when she first came to stay with them, as though she had a new big sister. It was hard to remember the good parts when someone had poured black ink over it all.

  *

  The next day, Jacob walked towards the woods with the little black collie he’d taken from the old woman’s house at the top of the road. He walked it sometimes. These were the people who would know, the dog walkers talked to each other and knew who was around. As their dogs sniffed the roadsides they stood and observed things. He wondered if one of them had seen Jayne that day. The dog pulled to be let off the lead as he got nearer to the trees.

  He released the hook on the red collar and the dog ran towards a woman in a beige trench coat on the field with a large poodle. She was overly made up with red lipstick that had bled into the wrinkles on her mouth and a dog with a matching red collar. It circled her before running towards the trees.

  ‘You’re walking Missy? Lovely dog. Lovely,’ she smiled.

  ‘Just helping out.’

  He smiled back at the woman and she crinkled her nose. His stutter was back, he could tell that it unnerved her. Some people didn’t bother and some did. She was one of the ones that found it uncomfortable and he knew that fact was going to make him stutter more. He’d been out here for a few hours, trying to find out if anyone had seen Jayne that day. It was a good way to get people to talk, they all knew the dog and they just came over to him. He didn’t even have to try.

  ‘It’s good of you kids to take her dog out. You’re doing a good thing.’

  Jacob lifted his head. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I’m just up over the field there. The big house on the corner,’ she said. She pouted and flicked her hair. Jacob looked up to where her house was. It was ideal for seeing the field and the three roads that led down to it. There was a good chance that she knew something.

  ‘You’ve got a good view of the fields then?’

  ‘And the river from the back window, we’re lucky.’

  Jacob nodded and walked next to her. ‘It was bad what happened wasn’t it? To the girl here?’

  She looked him up and down. ‘Yes, awful.’

  ‘I can’t believe it still.’

  ‘They found that dog of yours tied up to a tree nearby her.’

  ‘This dog?’

  ‘So I heard.’

  Jacob looked over at the little black collie. He didn’t remember Jayne ever taking it out.

  ‘Was she walking it?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. It was tied. The police have been all over this place. They’ve even cut back the brambles over there looking.’

  ‘Did they find anything?’

  ‘Who knows?’

  ‘You’ve got a good view of it all from your house though. Did you see anyone?’ He could barely get the words out and she looked surprised. He wanted her to stay with him and tell him everything she knew about it, but she just gave him a strange look.

  ‘No one unusual.’

  ‘Right.’

  She looked around for her dog, but it had run over into the scrubland at the edge of the field.

  ‘You probably hear things too, walking the dog and everything,’ Jacob said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You must have heard people talking about it. What have they said?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know.’

  She started to wrap the metal lead around her fist and looked over the ridge to see if she could see anyone.

  ‘It’s a lovely day today though,’ he said, with a false smile.

  ‘My husband is with our other dog, they’ll be back over this way soon.’

  She took a step away from him and Jacob wondered why she was looking around so much.

  ‘I know her cousin.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know anything and I didn’t see anything. I’ve got to get back.’

  As her dog disappeared into the bushes, Jacob shouted after her, ‘What about your husband?’ but she was almost running up the hill and didn’t wait.

  Jacob decided to call it a day. He’d found something out at least: that the dog was with Jayne – not that it helped, everyone walked that dog.

  Five houses had back windows that would have the perfect view of the woods and he hoped that someone else had seen something. He almost left the dog as he got up to walk back, but it came after him, running around his feet.

  ‘You’ve got the wrong idea,’ he told it. ‘We’re not going anywhere else, I’m taking you back.’

  When he got to the house the old woman asked if he was coming back later. ‘Nobody ever comes by in the evening anymore, the poor sod is just left out wanting,’ she told him as though it was his fault.

  ‘He was out that night though? When the girl was attacked.’

  ‘Anyone who wants to walk my dog can do. Would you like to come in for cherry cake?’ She smiled at him with yellow teeth and stale breath.

  ‘No thanks.’

  He left the dog and before he’d gone down the road it was out on the path again, with its black nose pushed out through the gate and lead hung up on the gatepost.

  It could have been anyone he decided. There were so many different ways through to the woods and so many people came by this way. The dog panted and barked at him as he walked further down the road, tail wagging hopefully. He didn’t like to admit it to himself, but he quite liked it. He walked back up Station Road avoiding the woods. There were ghosts in those trees and he didn’t want to go through there.

  As he walked towards the pub, he realised that he was walking with a purpose. He wanted to move on and accept the past for what it was. A rotten splinter that one day he would be able to push it out, until now he’d let it fester and bleed.

  A seagull cried on the wind as it circled the sky above. It didn’t matter where he went, there was always something that brought back a memory. His mother had taken them to live by the sea for a few months, before she realised she couldn’t cope on her o
wn. It didn’t matter that the air was different. The smells were different. It pulled at her chest until she realised that there was no running away, she had learnt to accept things for the way that they were and they came back again. He didn’t even have time to start his new school. That was when everything was in turmoil, just before it all crashed down around them.

  There was no peace and that was it. The guilt coloured his thoughts like ink. He always wondered if he could have said something to help her. He hadn’t made it easy for her either. He hadn’t gone quietly. He often thought about the house on the edge of the shore that she moved them to and wondered whether things would have been different if they’d stayed there. The little house that looked out over the sea on the edge of the caravan park. Isolated on the edge of the village near the estuary where the sea birds came to fish.

  In the end he’d started to like it there. She’d sit in the yellow armchair with the logs from the fire crackling and the blanket on her knees. She would seem content until her mind started to go off again and his dad had to come back for them. Sometimes he almost expected to see her here, coming round the corner with bags of shopping or walking back from the church in her best dress like she used to.

  He was glad when his dad cleared her clothes out though. It was odd having the dresses there in the wardrobe still. Hanging there flat and empty without a shape. That was the one good thing about Paula coming, all of those things went. It took someone else to clear them out, it wasn’t something that any of them wanted to do. He knew that he couldn’t undo the past, couldn’t change it and that was why he didn’t want everything to go wrong again. He wondered if she’d stood there in the little town by the sea and thought about walking out onto the pier and stepping into the sea before she left. He could hear the sound of cars everywhere today; it was a buzzing in his head that wouldn’t be quiet. Every car that passed reminded him that there was an endless stream pouring under the motorway bridge in a never-ending flow.

  7

  Jacob walked down Maggie’s street and stopped at the front gate. The air had a bite to it that he could almost taste and more snow was on the way. The chill was so great Jacob felt that he’d almost been scalped, the cold went right down to his skull.

  He pulled up the scarf around his neck and pushed his hands deep into his pockets as he stood staring at Maggie’s front door. He’d never usually knocked on for her. They usually just met on the street or he’d walk her back after school if he saw her on the lane and they’d hang out for a bit. Of course he had her number, but he couldn’t bring himself to ring it. He didn’t know what he’d say if she answered. There was a white envelope stuck out of the door and he wondered if it was a condolence card. Even his dad had sent one.

  What happened to Jayne bothered Paula too. She’d stopped taking the dog out at night on her own and kept telling his dad that she felt like someone was watching her. Jacob never saw anyone suspicious though.

  Some kids from school said that Jayne was all smashed up when they found her. That someone had caved her head in. Jacob didn’t blame Maggie for not wanting to come out of the house. He found himself thinking about Jayne as he walked around the village. Glancing over at the grass verges and in the ditches as he walked to school to see if there was some clue there, he had no idea what he was looking for. He tried to think of Jayne’s pink-lipped smile and not the idea of her in the woods, but he couldn’t.

  She’d sat with him in Maggie’s kitchen a couple of times while he waited for Maggie. She’d asked about the Vincents and how often they all hung out. She looked out for Maggie more than she realised. Jacob remembered her wanting to know all about the things they did together and how long they’d all been friends. Jacob guessed that if they hadn’t been made to share a bedroom, they could have been friends.

  Before he had a chance to walk up the path the front door opened. Jacob took a step backwards and was about to walk away when he saw that it was Maggie in the doorway. She looked tired, older, like she needed to feel the outside on her face and the air in her hair. She was meant for the outdoors, not to be locked away.

  ‘You looked like Michael Myers stood there.’

  Jacob walked down the path towards her, uncertain of what to say. Did he need a reason to be here? ‘I won’t chop you up. It’s my day off.’ His face immediately dropped and she raised an eyebrow. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean…’ he started.

  ‘Come in, you weirdo.’

  ‘Can’t feel my hands, I’ve been out all morning.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Just walking about.’

  He wished he had something to tell her, but he hadn’t managed to get any good information at all. All he’d done was upset that woman with the poodle. He looked behind her at the deserted hall. The house was neat with coats hung up on hooks in the hall and a rack for the shoes. Jacob stared at them there by the door, all arranged side by side and looked for the shiny red shoes that Maggie had borrowed the day they went into Stockport. There was no sign of them though.

  ‘Yeah, OK.’

  He felt odd going in, like he was intruding on something, it didn’t feel right somehow.

  ‘Been up to much?’ she asked.

  He shrugged. ‘The Vincents were throwing bricks and nearly hit someone. Mr Vincent went mental.’

  ‘Pricks. Anyway, I was asking what you’ve done, not them.’

  He tried not to show that he was pleased. He could tell that Matty Vincent had a crush on Maggie and he often wondered if she felt the same. She never gave much away.

  ‘Nothing. They’re more interesting.’

  ‘Throwing bricks is interesting, is it? Saddos.’

  He wasn’t sure if it was a dig at him. He wanted to ask her if they’d found out anything more about Jayne, but he couldn’t bring himself to. His dad said it was usually someone they knew, but he wasn’t going to tell her that either. It made him worry though. He didn’t want anything to happen to her. Maybe he really did love her. Maybe that’s why he was here.

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘I didn’t say anything.’

  ‘You’re staring. It’s weird.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  He’d stare all day if he could.

  ‘So?’

  He looked past her towards the kitchen. It felt odd being in there. He hoped that the family weren’t around.

  ‘So what?’

  ‘So what you here for?’

  ‘Nothing. Just thought I’d come.’

  ‘And stand outside on the street like a maniac? Great.’

  ‘No, I…’

  She laughed. ‘Want a drink?’

  ‘Yes.’ He didn’t want one, but he wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Are you on your own?’

  ‘Stop being weird.’

  He frowned. She was probably doing it to wind him up, but that’s what she liked to do. Make jokes. He could tell by her face that she wasn’t OK though.

  ‘I just don’t feel like talking to anyone else.’

  She looked him up and down. ‘I know what you mean. That’s why I’ve been staying in. Everyone’s either whispering about me or pretending to be my best friend. I hate it.’

  ‘I get that.’

  ‘Even the real nasty twats are being nice. It’s the worst.’

  He smiled; he couldn’t help it.

  On the wall were some photographs of children in a boat on holiday. He tried to work out if her cousin was one of them.

  ‘They don’t know who it was still. They’ve no clue,’ she said, as she poured orange cordial in a glass. ‘Could have be anyone. Could have been you.’

  He frowned. ‘It wasn’t.’

  ‘Duh.’

  ‘Did she have a boyfriend?’

  ‘Who are you, the police?’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘She was loved by every fucker. So who knows?’

  Maggie looked out of the window. He followed her stare. She always had the wrong idea of her cousin, just because of the clothes she wore and a
ll the makeup; whenever he’d seen her, Jayne had been on her own. She wasn’t as popular as Maggie thought.

  Jacob nodded. ‘You OK? You don’t seem yourself.’

  ‘Well, my cousin’s dead so…’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘I’ve got my room back at least.’ She shrugged.

  ‘Right.’

  She filled the glass with water, her hair in curls down her back over the T-shirt she was wearing. She placed the glass on the side and turned to face him.

  ‘She was wearing those shoes you took the mickey out of. When they found her.’

  ‘That’s awful.’

  ‘She never even knew I’d worn them. I put them straight back in her wardrobe that day.’

  ‘She wouldn’t have minded,’ Jacob said.

  ‘Maybe, maybe not.’ Margaret sniffed.

  When she passed him the glass she pressed her lips together. He took the glass and drank. The orange was too strong and warm. She hadn’t let the water run long enough. He thought about the pale pink shimmer lipstick that her cousin used to wear. He’d come round once and Maggie had answered the door wearing it. She’d wiped it off with the back of her hand, but he could still see the little flecks of shiny pink on her lips.

  ‘I want to see it,’ she said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The woods.’

  ‘The woods?’

  ‘Come with me? I didn’t want to go on my own. I can’t ask anyone here.’

  Jacob swallowed.

  She looked at him as though he was stupid. ‘I just want to go. I haven’t been.’

  He thought about the shoes. The bright redness against the snow. He didn’t want to go anywhere near the woods, but he would. He’d do it because she asked him to. He’d do anything she asked him to.