What We Saw

Chapter Four

That evening, we ate our dinner quickly before shooting off to meet Donald. The sun looked pretty, and its glow danced on the sea. It reminded me of home, when Dad put me on his shoulders to watch the sun set over the horizon. I used to wonder where it went to hide at night.

We never did tell Gran and Granddad where we were going.

Emily’s caravan lights were on as we passed. The car was in the driveway. Did the curtain twitch?

‘Little sod,’ Adam said.

‘She might not have gone out yet.’

‘Oh, stop defending her will you? It’s so obvious you fancy her.’

I nudged Adam in the ribs as he raised his voice on the ‘fancy her’.

‘Shall we bother calling on her? Give her a piece of mind?’ Adam asked, edging towards her driveway.

I pulled him back. ‘Leave her be. Donald’s waiting for us. It ain’t worth it, Ad. Maybe her dad just doesn’t want her to play tonight.’

He shrugged and spat in front of the caravan. ‘Her dad doesn’t want her to do anything. He needs to chill.’

As we started walking away from Emily’s caravan, I heard a shouting from somewhere inside. A man’s deep voice echoed over the sound of the turned up telly. A woman’s voice cried back before everything went silent. Maybe it was just on the telly?

I looked at Adam, who turned towards the ground, before we walked on.

Donald waited right where he always waited when we went to the caves: right in front of the mouth of the woods. The woods looked threatening at night, as if they were preparing to gobble us all up. It made me feel like a real adventurer.

We headed towards the entrance. Donald clutched at the straps of his backpack and led the way. He walked quickly, which was fine with us, because the sooner we got to the caves, the better. Nothing was quite so clear in the woods. Strange shapes moved around and scuttled in the distance. I thought I heard voices whispering behind me. It was so dark that everything seemed to be black and white, like we were in an old horror film. The birds stopped singing. The leaves of the trees and occasional call of the owl were the only sounds that sliced through the silence. Something flickered ahead of us. Maybe it was a rabbit. Or maybe it was a ghost?

‘Um, are we nearly there, Donald?’ Adam asked, looking back over his shoulder.

‘Nearly there, boys, don’t you worry,’ he said.

‘Not scared are you, cuz?’ I asked.

Adam looked up at me, then back down to the ground. ‘No, why would I be?’

I smiled. ‘Just y’know, with all the scary things people say and—’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know,’ he interrupted. ‘Let’s just get there before you poo your pants.’

When we reached the caves, it was almost dark. Donald pulled out his flashlight and shone it upwards against his face before laughing like a ghoul. Adam walked towards a cave.

‘Woah, wait a second,’ Donald said, edging in front of Adam. ‘You don’t know what’s down there, especially with all the stories.’

‘What stories?’ asked Adam.

The stories were our favourite part—the reason we came to the caves. Donald perched the flashlight in between two stones, so it shone upwards into the sky, like Batman’s light.

Donald told us tales about how dogs had run down into the cave and never returned. How children had stuck their arms in, only to have something bite them off. Whole families had gone missing. The entrance to the caves themselves were small, probably big enough for someone of Donald’s size to squeeze in, but as the insects partied round the light in front of us, dancing to the sounds of our voices, he insisted that we’d never go down there. Especially not at night.

We talked and laughed for a while. Donald gave us marshmallows and cups of hot chocolate. It was good to have somebody like Donald around, who showed a real interest in us. It reminded me of Dad. It was good for Adam, too, for someone like this to be around. Donald treated us like adults, but wasn’t afraid to joke around with us and get involved in our mysteries. I looked at Donald and I looked at Adam and I remembered what it was like for him to have a dad who was there for him.

‘You did tell your grandparents you were out here, right lads?’ he said.

Adam and I looked at each other.

Donald’s head slumped. ‘Jesus, kids, you’ve got to start telling them. We can’t go getting into any trouble with nobody knowing where we are. Besides, your granddad and me get on anyway. He wouldn’t mind.’

‘Is that why you hugged the other day?’ I asked.

Donald’s eyes flickered in the glow of the torchlight. He took a moment before responding. ‘I—hugged me?’ he asked.

I nodded my head, quickly. ‘Yeah, I swear he hugged you yesterday, when we were in the wasteground and you caught us throwing rocks.’

Donald worried the grass beneath him, plucking little strands up in his tweezer-like fingers. ‘Oh, he was probably just thanking me for keeping an eye on you. What a funny thing to remember, kiddo.’ His smile twitched.

Adam sighed and rolled his eyes at me: another dead-end.

I think Gran and Granddad knew he took us on walks and things, but we didn’t tell them about him helping to plan our mysteries or coming out hunting for ghosts with us. It was a good way of getting away from everything else in the caravan and the stuff back home.

Adam and I headed back through the woods, the starry eyes of the night staring down on us. The sea crashed against the shore somewhere in the distance. The walk back was always the best part. Donald stayed behind us, shining the light ahead, and Adam and I marched on. Occasionally, Donald would switch the flashlight off and stop in his tracks. We panicked for a few moments, the excitement working its way up our chests, before Donald crept up in front of us and shone the light in our eyes.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again,’ he laughed.

Adam giggled. ‘You always say that!’

*

When we got back, Gran and Granddad were in their usual spot. Gran lay stretched across the sofa, and Granddad read the sports section of the Telegraph. Carla greeted us with her usual modesty and brought us a gift, this time an old sock. Or at least we thought it was old; Granddad didn’t often wash his socks.

‘Where have you been, boys?’ Gran asked.

‘We’ve just been playing at Emily’s,’ Adam lied.

Granddad’s turned from his paper, peeking over the top of his glasses. ‘How’s she doing?’

‘Oh, alright, y’know,’ I said. I couldn’t look at Granddad when I lied to him.

He nodded, and returned to his paper.

‘Why?’ I asked.

Granddad stared on. ‘I thought she was heading out tonight, after what you’d said before, but I must be mistaken, eh?’

I gulped. Adam sneaked behind me towards the bedroom, gesturing for me to follow. I stroked Carla and made my move out of the room. Granddad always seemed to get so close to sussing us out. He was like a really good police officer, weighing up his evidence before deciding to pull us up for it.

We went to bed quite early that night. We didn’t want to have another run in with Granddad after our close call.

‘Liam,’ Adam said, as he lay back in his bed. ‘Do you think, seriously, there’s anything after we die?’

I contemplated my answer, trying to walk the tightrope of what my cousin wanted to hear and what I believed. ‘Uhm… I think so,’ I replied. ‘I don’t know what, but the way I see it, there’s no such thing as nothing, is there? So, that means there has to be something?’

Adam turned his head towards the ceiling and curved his eyebrows inwards, pondering what I’d said, cryptically piecing it together like a maths puzzle. Adam was good at maths, exceptionally so, for his age. ‘But doesn’t that mean that nothing can be something?’ he asked.

I was a little taken aback, and didn’t really know what to say. I didn’t know the answer myself. I’m not sure anyone did, not even the wise old adults. ‘I don’t… I don’t know, Adam. But I think what I’m saying is… no one will ever know. But I think the chance that there is nothing what with all the people who have seen ghosts and things is small, eh?’

‘What about a heaven? Do you think there is one?’

Adam and I didn’t usually talk about this stuff. Like a snail, I could sense his shell was beginning to crack, exposing that jelly interior. It had been that way for a few weeks now.

Before I could reply, I noticed something glistening on Adam’s face, reflecting the soft glow of the little bed lamp above his head. Usually, I’d think about teasing him, but it didn’t seem right. I didn’t think to ask him if he was okay. I don’t think he wanted me to see his tears.

Adam rolled over onto his side. ‘You’re lucky y’know, Liam. I’d do anything to be you.’

‘I…’ My throat grew heavier. I couldn’t think of what to say. ‘You don’t mean that.’

‘I know your mum and dad are arguing, but at least they’re here. I’ve got nothing. Just you, Gran, Granddad, and Carla. Then Donald.’

‘And Emily,’ I said.

Adam sniffed. ‘Emily doesn’t give a damn, not really.’

I thought about replying. Instead, I reached my arm over to his bed and rested my hand on his arm. I didn’t say anything. The gentle warmth of his arm snuck through the quilt. Maybe I was the lucky one, after all. He breathed softly through the duvet. It was so easy to get bogged down trying to keep him occupied, but the main thing he needed was someone to rest their hand on his arm when he was upset.