Blood Harvest

44

AS QUICKLY AS HE COULD, BUT NOT FORGETTING TO watch out for anyone who might be lurking, Tom ran through the churchyard entrance, skirted round the ruins, past the church and into the graveyard, then dived behind a stone to get his breath back.
It was four thirty, and a few stripes of orange and pink in the sky showed where the sun had been not five minutes earlier. The cloud cover was thickening rapidly. The light would fade fast now. He hadn’t much time.
He set off again, keeping as close as he could to the boundary wall. If anything happened, he could be over it and in through the back door in seconds. She was fast, Tom knew that, but he was fast too.
At Lucy Pickup’s grave he crouched low again. Someone had left a bunch of tiny pink roses on it and – it looked so sad somehow – a small cream teddy bear with a pink ribbon round its neck. He remembered, then, the reason why the town had its bonfire tonight instead of on November the fifth; November the second was the Day of the Dead. Harry had told them all about it. It was the day when people remembered and honoured all those they loved who were dead now. In Heptonclough people visited their graves, prayed for them, left presents. They honour their dead in Heptonclough, Harry had said.
Tom looked all around. Still enough light. And he was very close to the wall.
Yew trees are no good for climbing, anyone could tell you that. They don’t grow that tall and their branches don’t get thick enough. But this tree had just one strong branch that hung out over the Fletchers’ garden. If Tom was careful, if he didn’t worry about a few scratches, he could make his way on to it.
He had about ten, fifteen minutes. His mother thought he was doing homework and she’d warned Joe and Millie not to come near him. Fifteen minutes might be enough.
Climbing up, Tom was shocked to discover how much of his house could be seen from the tree. He could see Joe crawling along the back of the sofa with his machine gun tucked under his arm. Tom could even see quite a lot of the upstairs rooms too. There was his mum in the bathroom, reaching into the cupboard for one of Millie’s nappies. All of which made him wonder. Did she sit here, on this branch, watching them? Yew trees never lose their leaves. Tucked up in here, if she kept still, she could watch his family for hours and they’d never know.
Round his neck, tucked into his sweatshirt to keep it safe, he had his dad’s digital camera. He knew how to set the flash, how to focus and how to zoom in and out. He’d practised all yesterday evening, taking pictures of Millie dancing around the living room, and then his dad had showed him how to download them on to the computer. Tom was going to wait until the little girl appeared and take photographs. As many as he could. And then they’d have to believe him. If he could show them pictures they’d know he’d been telling the truth. That he wasn’t mad. Best of all, he’d know he wasn’t mad.
In a couple of hours it could all be over.