I hit Send and waited. Jake was standing outside the Rectory now, staring up at the bedroom window. I looked at where he was staring and saw a curtain move. She was watching him too.
The little clock in the corner of the screen said 12:12. I kept my eyes fixed on it until it changed to the dangerous number, and when it changed I shut my eyes and counted repeatedly to seven. Let’s just make that evil number a nice round twenty and everything will be fine and dandy.
The trumpet noise announced that she’d answered my email, but I kept my eyes closed until I was sure that the minute had passed. When I opened them, 12:14 showed in the bottom corner of the screen. I felt my shoulders drop as I relaxed.
To: Matthew Corbin
From: Melody Bird
Re: Help
Sure.
Melody x
I exhaled, not realizing I’d been holding my breath, and then I went to the bathroom to wash.
Melody Bird wasn’t someone I’d taken much notice of before. At school, she was one of those girls who always seemed to be in a rush to get somewhere, her head down low as she concentrated on the floor in front of her, somehow managing not to bump into anyone as she dashed between classes. It was only recently that I noticed her peculiar movements. My notebooks were full of her:
Thursday, April 24th. Office/nursery. Cloudy.
4:03 p.m.—Melody heads to the overgrown alley next to Old Nina’s house. Nothing back there but the graveyard.
Wednesday, May 28th. Office/nursery. Bright, light wind.
4:37 p.m.—Melody goes on another graveyard visit.
Thursday, May 29th. Office/nursery. Heavy rain.
4:15 p.m.—Melody goes to the graveyard. And she only went yesterday? What does she do there???
Sunday, June 14th. Office/nursery. Overcast.
2:35 p.m.—Jake cornered Melody on her way home from school. He grabbed her bag and held it high so she couldn’t reach it. He said something to her and she kept shaking her head, trying to grab her bag. Eventually he threw it into the gutter, where she grabbed it and ran home.
Melody and I were in some of the same classes at school, the worst one being drama. I hated every single millisecond of it. Miss King, our drama teacher, insisted that each one of us had an actor inside us and that it was her job to pull it out kicking and screaming for the rest of the class to enjoy. That pretty much sums up why I hated it so much.
One week we had to prance around the room pretending to be butterflies, and when she told us to stop, we had to turn and face the person nearest to us and imagine there was a sheet of glass between us as we mirrored each other’s movements.
“Okay 7A, let’s see some gorgeous butterflies!” she said, shaking her hands outward, her bracelets jangling madly. “Are we ready to flap those little wings? Okay! On a count of three … two … one … FLY!”
Miss King stood in the middle of the room and clapped her hands as we shuffled awkwardly around her. After a while, some of the girls began to get into it, and they stretched on their tiptoes and fluttered their hands at their sides. The boys were less enthusiastic and pulled faces behind Miss King’s back every time they flapped past. I made discreet little arm movements, trying not to draw attention to myself, which a lot of the class seemed to be doing as well. After a couple of minutes Miss King yelled again: “That’s wonderful, 7A! Now, get ready for that mime work. On a count of three … two … one … MIRRORS!”
We all stopped and turned to the person nearest us in silence. I faced Melody Bird, who looked as uncomfortable as I felt. Tom was snorting in the corner as he faced Simon Duke, who was shaking and red from laughing.
“Concentrate, Tom Allen! Simon Duke! Now, watch your partner and slowly, slowly copy their movements. See who takes the lead. Don’t touch each other. Remember there is a pane of glass between you!”
I looked at Melody and scratched at an itch on my eyebrow. Melody quickly scratched her eyebrow, and I laughed.
“I haven’t started yet!” I whispered.
“No talking, Matthew,” said Miss King as she passed by. “You must all mime in silence!”
Melody held up her hand, her palm facing outward, and I put mine a couple of inches away from hers. She moved her hand up and I copied, then she stretched it out to the side and I followed. I could feel the heat from her skin, but back then I didn’t mind as much. I was washing and managing to keep it a secret, since the anxiety I had about germs hadn’t gotten too bad yet. Her other hand came up and now we swayed from side to side. She stuck her tongue out, and I stuck my tongue back out at her.
“That’s good, Melody! Remember you can use your faces as well, 7A. Use your whole body!”
Melody crinkled up her nose and I did the same and then she pulled her bottom teeth up over her top lip and rolled her eyes back. I spluttered with laughter and then Miss King called out again.
“And now everyone back to those butterflies … Three … two … one … GO!”
Melody smiled and then flapped off into the group as I stretched out my hands and followed her.
I heard a door bang and I looked outside to see Melody coming out of number three. Dressed in black jeans, black T-shirt, and that long black cardigan, she walked in the direction of High Street. I felt a pang of excitement. She was on her way to buy my gloves, I just knew it. Jake was outside the Rectory and he ran across the road to catch up with her. Instantly her shoulders drooped and she curled up on herself. Jake was saying something to her, waving his arms around, and then they disappeared around the corner.
About an hour later a policewoman arrived to ask me some more questions. I say more, but she just asked the same ones all over again: Had I seen anything suspicious or heard anything out of the ordinary? Had I noticed anyone different on the block in the days leading up to his disappearance? I said no and went over, yet again, everything that I’d seen: Teddy playing with the petals, Mr. Jenkins going for a run, and that was it. I asked if they’d questioned Jake yet.
“Why would you ask that?” the policewoman said. I recognized her as one of the police who had turned up in a silver car not long after Teddy was reported missing. One of the “too important to wear a uniform” ones.
“Matthew is friends with Jake, aren’t you, darling? I guess he just wants to know if you’ve spoken to everyone on the street.”
Mum was with us in the kitchen, halfway through tidying the cupboards to keep herself busy. She’d stopped going to the salon so she could help with the searches, and Dad had taken time off work as well. He’d been out with a search party all morning.
“Jake’s no friend of mine,” I said under my breath.
The policewoman leaned forward on our kitchen table.
“We’ve spoken to everyone in the neighborhood, yes, but if there’s anything else we should know about, then you must tell us, Matthew.”
“Only that he’s a nasty piece of work, that’s all,” I said.
“Matthew! How can you say that? You used to be such good friends.” Mum turned to the policewoman, clearly thinking she should explain. “Jake had troubles with his health in elementary school. He was allergic to everything: nuts, fish, shampoo, wool, you name it. He was always covered in rashes and having wheezing fits. It was so frightening for Sue. At school he got picked on a bit. Kids can be so cruel, you know? Not my Matthew, of course … But then it made him a bit bitter as he got older, I guess. You know, those sorts of kids that always seem to find trouble? His older brother, Leo, doesn’t help. That’s all it is really.”
The policewoman stood up, clearly deciding that this was all irrelevant and that she had far more important things to do.
“How is Teddy’s mum, officer? Is she coping? Can I pop over and see if there’s anything I can do to help?”