What We Saw

Chapter Twenty-Three

Adam and I didn’t eat very well that night. Even by Adam’s standards, a bite of ham was pretty ridiculous. Gran fussed and asked him what was wrong, but his mind was elsewhere. I tried my best to eat the fish and chips Granddad had brought back from Bareslow for us, but it was more out of respect than anything else. I wasn’t hungry. In fact, I was the exact opposite—sick to the bottom of my stomach. And anyway, how could I just sit here and eat while Emily suffered at the hands of Donald? Who knows what he could be doing to her right at this moment.

Maybe he was the one kissing her now. I clenched my eyes together. I couldn’t let myself think about that. We had to tell someone before it was too late. But wouldn’t that mean that we were the ones to blame? We knew he was in the wrong and that he’d done something, and we hadn’t reported it. The back of my throat felt warm and my eyes stung.

There was a sombre atmosphere in the caravan in general. Granddad pulled me aside when I’d got in to tell me that I’d be here for another few weeks. Something to do with my mum and dad. I didn’t really care; nothing could take me away from Emily and Donald right now anyway. This was my home for now, and the people I cared about were in trouble. Mum and Dad could argue all they wanted and sort out their own problems; it was probably better with me out of their way. But Adam couldn’t fight this battle on his own and neither could Emily. We needed a plan of action.

Carla was probably the only happy member of the caravan that evening. I scraped my leftover chips into her bowl. Granddad peeked over the top of his copy of the Telegraph. He went to open his mouth before sighing and looking back down.

‘Are you coming swimming tonight or what, boys?’ he asked from behind his newspaper.

‘Nah, I think we’ll give it a—’

He slammed the pages together and pulled his reading glasses from the edge of his nose. His face was red. ‘Right, what is going on?’ he shouted. ‘Whatever it is, it ends, right here.’

My heart began to thump. He’d sussed us. I looked at Adam, who turned back to me, biting his lip.

‘It’s— it’s nothing, Granddad—’ I started.

‘Oh, don’t give me that,’ he said, throwing his hand in our direction. ‘I get you’ve got stuff going on in your heads. You never open up, either of you. That’s your problem.’

Gran walked through and saw Granddad ranting.

‘Come on, Dean,’ she said. ‘Leave the boys be.’

He took a deep breath and picked up his paper again. ‘I’m fine,’ he said, smiling. ‘Sorry, lads. Just… just remember you don’t have to bottle anything, ‘cause it’s good to talk, okay?’ The ‘okay’ stuck in his throat. I looked up at Gran, who simply raised her eyebrows and wandered back towards the bedroom.

‘Everything’s fine, Granddad,’ Adam said. ‘I promise.’

Granddad didn’t hear him, or at least, he pretended not to.

*

That night, I told Adam about my confrontation with Emily’s dad. He scrunched his nose and eyebrows in confusion.

‘Why are you only telling me this now? This could be important, cuz. Maybe he was worried about something.’

Adam made a good point. I slid my teeth across my lip and wished I’d mentioned something to him earlier. ‘What d’you think he was worried about?’ I asked.

‘Well I mean, you were seeing her. And she started looking a bit sick and everything. Maybe her dad thought you were the one behind it all, you know? Maybe he saw you two together and went crazy, I dunno.’

‘Or…’

‘Or what?’

I stopped mid speech because a niggling thought had been scratching away at me for some time now. I looked down and took a deep breath. ‘Maybe her dad knows more than he is letting on about all of this. Maybe… maybe he hurts Emily. I’m worried about her, Ad.’

Adam stared at me, right into my eyes. I saw his face go slightly paler. ‘You reckon Emily’s dad is helping Donald?’ he asked.

I scratched my leg. ‘Maybe. And if he is, I think Emily’s in trouble. We saw her with Donald. And her dad can be mean to her.’

Adam shook his head, fast. ‘I dunno. Why would her dad hurt her?’ He scanned my eyes for signs of an answer.

I paused. ‘I don’t know, Adam. It’s just, I dunno. The way he looked at me… he was so angry. He looked as if he could do anything to anyone.’

Adam and I stared at each other for some time. Adam looked like his brain had gone into overload. I knew I’d thrown him into the deep end, but it was probably the right thing to do.

Adam coughed and cleared the way for his voice to come out, but he still struggled to find his words. ‘We—we go and talk to Emily tomorrow. Ask her about things. We find out what’s been going on with her and Donald first,’ he said. ‘Then we move in on her dad.’

I knew he was right. I mean, no matter what Emily’s dad had done to me, the way he’d stared at me and the way he’d probably smashed our window, nothing replaced the fact that Donald was the man we’d seen burying the body of the girl. Donald was the one who had turned up with Carla. Donald was the one who showed us a buried ring, and Donald was the one having secret conversations with Emily in our den. Emily’s dad had just gotten mad. We needed to focus.

‘First thing tomorrow?’ I said.

Adam nodded. ‘First thing.’ He turned over and switched his little light off. He didn’t say another word. I laid back and flicked my light off and wished I hadn’t said anything about Emily’s dad.

That night, I dreamt I was chased down the beach in the pitch black by a man who panted and spat like a dog. I couldn’t see his face; he was moving too fast, and whenever I turned round, my feet slowed down and the oncoming beast sped up. Somehow I recognised him.

The eyes.

Red, bloodshot eyes, pinning me against the wall, staring into my soul and screaming at me.

Donald’s eyes?

Or maybe Emily’s dad’s?

‘STAY THE F*ck AWAY.’

Or maybe my dad’s?

I tried to scream back but I couldn’t. Nothing came out. I looked down and realised my body had gone. I was just a head. The eyes lifted me and tossed me towards the sea, my stomach spinning like I was on a never-ending rollercoaster.

I landed in Carla’s mouth, who chewed me up like dog food. I felt her teeth pierce my skin a thousand times. Adam, Gran, and Granddad stood on the coast, applauding.

I jolted out of bed to see Adam’s bed already empty. My heart thumped as I wiped the sweat from my forehead. Just a dream. Just a dream.

I wondered where Adam was and why everything was so silent. My watch said it was 9:00am. Granddad would be back now, swapping the old newspaper with the new one. Gran would probably be in the bathroom or eating toast in bed. I heard a debate outside, some raised voices and commotion.

When I pulled the blinds open, I saw my granddad leaning into a blue car, pointing and throwing his arms around. He gestured up the road, slamming his hands down on the side of the car. Rubbing his cheeks in his hands.

It took a few moments but I recognised the blue car, as navy as my school jumper but shiny from all that washing and care.

My granddad stepped to one side, and I caught a glimpse of the driver’s face. His greying beard—shit, how’d I forgotten his greying beard? Had it always been that grey? That was the thing with people when you hadn’t seen them in a while. They changed and didn’t match up to the image of them in your head. I imagined Adam, Gran, and Granddad clinging on to the dead face of their daughter and son-in-law. They’d never remember them in full.

I threw on whatever clothes I could find and walked out of the bedroom, being careful not to disturb Gran, who I could hear fluttering about in her room. If she knew about this, she wouldn’t want me to go outside to see him. It would be best for me, she’d say. That way, I couldn’t get upset again.

Carla looked up at me from the front room, ears pricking up with my unexpected entry. Her tongue dangled outside of her mouth, a stray strand of saliva hanging like translucent rope. Even she knew something was different. As I pottered further into the front room, I saw Adam stood in front of the door. He folded his arms and he stared at me. I knew he wasn’t supposed to let me pass. I proceeded anyway, trying to shuffle round him, but he put his arm out and softly stopped me, with no real force behind it. I respected this and didn’t try to push through. He was only doing what he’d been told.

‘I’m sorry, cuz,’ he said, his eyes shifting around the floor. ‘Granddad said it’d be best if you let him sort it out.’

I felt my cheeks flush. I wanted to scream. A part of me appreciated that Granddad, that Adam and Gran, they were all trying to do ‘the right thing’ all the time. But something exploded inside me. I wanted to see him, and I wanted to get out of here—was there anything so wrong with that? It was only when I caught a glimpse of his beard and his leather coat that I realised how much I needed something from the outside. Something to burst this bubble of shit that all of us had been caught up in lately.

I needed to get out of this little fantasy world, even if only for a day.

I began to turn away and noticed Adam’s arms fall to his side again. He stepped towards me to comfort me. His guard had dropped. I knew this was my chance. I jolted round. Adam’s eyes and mouth widened in realisation. I threw myself past him as he tried to grab at my body and my feet, but nothing was stopping me. I gripped the handle of the door and felt the wave of air crash into my face before plummeting down the steps, just about managing to regain my balance on all fours. I dragged myself back up to my feet and pelted in the direction of the blue car.

Somewhere behind me, Adam shouted. The only thing that really mattered was the blue car. His face. I needed to get to him before the car disappeared completely.

‘It’s too late.’ I heard Adam’s voice clearly now as I threw myself down the stones. The blue car began to creep up the hill. Granddad turned to face me as I sprinted in its wake. I wasn’t a fast runner, but I knew I could reach it if I threw enough into the run. I looked down at my legs, which moved faster than I’d ever seen them before. It felt as if the top half of my body had been placed on some sort of robot, a fast-running robot. The car began to turn the corner. Granddad shouted my name. Old people watched on from their old living rooms in their old caravan windows.

The car disappeared as my legs gave in, and I plummeted towards the road. I tasted metal and felt my nose gush with something more watery than snot. I’d been so close to getting away from all this mess, all of this depressing mess, and I’d failed thanks to these people. Tears stung my eyes. Turning over onto my back, I cried out a wail of defeat.

‘Why can’t you come back? Why…’

That’s when I heard a loud honking. It sounded like an alarm, but I turned round to see that the blue car waited for me at the top of the hill. He had seen me. He’d come back. I hadn’t failed. Without even thinking, I ran towards the car, being careful not to plummet towards the ground this time. Blood still dribbled down my chin from my bust nose. I stopped myself before the door, which was slightly parted and waiting for me to enter. I took a deep breath. It felt like so long since I had seen him. I reached out towards the door and edged into the passenger seat before turning towards him, smile hiding beneath his beard. He did look a little bit different, his face somewhat thinner.

‘Hello, son. Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?’

As the car moved forward, I glanced in the mirror. Granddad, Gran, and Adam all stood together, staring towards the car, speechless.