What We Saw

Chapter Eight

We sat outside on the steps of the caravan. Neither of us had moved since we got back about an hour ago. Adam kept looking up whenever a noise sparked in the distance. I picked up the little stones at my side and tossed them towards the football.

‘Do we tell them, Liam?’ Adam asked.

We also hadn’t spoken much since we’d got back. I couldn’t find the words. Adam’s question echoed what I’d been thinking for the last hour or so.

I gulped at the blockage in my throat. ‘I… I don’t know. I mean we should, but—’

‘Maybe if we ask Donald?’ Adam asked, his eyes meeting mine before turning back to the ground. It was an option, but right now, I didn’t want to be anywhere near the guy.

‘I don’t know. Did he see us?’ I asked.

Adam’s eyes wandered as he stared up at the blue sky, still not a cloud in sight. ‘No. I mean, I don’t know. It was too hard to tell. It all went so fast.’

I sighed. ‘I don’t know, Adam. I mean if he didn’t see us, maybe we can pretend it never happened.’

‘What did happen, Liam?’

The thought shot around my head. A thousand questions. I couldn’t make sense of any of it.

I stood up when Gran called for us, and we went inside, the two of us sharing a smile as I let him lead the way.

We didn’t speak much at all that afternoon. At dinnertime, Adam and I sat silent at the table like ghosts. Gran and Granddad kept going into the kitchen and whispering. I knew they were probably talking about us.

Granddad turned to us whilst digging into his chips and cleared his throat. ‘You erm… you’re alright aren’t you, lads?’

I swung round. ‘Yes. Don’t worry. We’re fine.’ I forced a smile and pretended to scratch at something on my hand, looking away from Granddad. He opened his mouth to speak again but sighed instead and turned back to the telly. Gran paced around the kitchen, shooting glances in our direction and turning away the second I eyed her back.

I felt a sharp pain hit my leg. I looked up at Adam, who frowned.

‘Could have made it a bit less obvious,’ he whispered.

I shrugged back at him. ‘Alright, see how you—’

I realised I was shouting. Adam looked behind me at where Gran stood and edged back in his seat, turning back down to the table in front of him.

‘Everything alright, boys?’ Gran asked.

Adam and I looked at each other. Adam made the move.

‘Yeah, just talking about den stuff. Liam wants a different sort of chair. I reckon it’s fine as it is.’

I curled my eyebrows up and Adam shrugged back at me. ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I dunno. It should be alright for now though, I guess…’

Gran looked at the two of us as she dried a pot in her hand, shook her head, and muttered something under her breath.

‘Oh, Liam… your, erm, your dad called earlier,’ Granddad said.

The mention of Dad caught my ear and snapped me out of my trance. ‘Oh. Right.’

Granddad scratched his nose and shuffled his magazine about. ‘Yeah. He asked about you. I him told you were doing good. Den building.’ He smiled and twitched his eyebrows.

I didn’t really know what to say.

We went to bed early again that night. The crackling of rain against the roof woke me as it often did. It was still dark in the room, which meant that it was still night time. I couldn’t hear Granddad clattering around, so it must be sometime after midnight and before morning. I looked over at Adam, who lay still. It wasn’t clear if he was actually asleep or not.

I turned back towards the ceiling. I could see something small and black moving around, creeping about. Probably a spider. I didn’t mind spiders, but if Adam saw it, he’d go crazy.

I thought about what Granddad had said about my dad. It was the only thing that had taken my mind off what we’d seen since it had happened. I wondered what my dad and my mum were doing at this exact moment. Mum used to come and tuck me in and leave me some sweets when I was younger, which I promised I wouldn’t eat until morning. In the past few months though, they just shouted and fought. I’d wrap my pillow round my head and try not to listen. Try not to think.

I tried not to think now, too, but whatever I did, my thoughts kept returning to Donald. The girl. Dead. Her body like a wet stone, the sweat from her struggle now cold as ice as it gathered at the bottom of the body bag. I still saw her eyes staring up towards her fate.

I knew we should go to the police, but they’d find her soon enough. We’d just get ourselves involved if we went to them. There would be interviews and afternoons off school, and… no. It wasn’t worth it. We were safe for now.

Unless Donald saw us, that was. I clenched my eyes together and tried to picture the scene at the exact moment Adam had pulled me away. Sometimes, I saw Donald’s bloodshot eyes meet mine for a moment. Other times they didn’t. I wasn’t sure what was true. I felt sick and shaky.

The spider crawled into the corner of the ceiling, in its own little upside-down world.

The main thing that scared me wasn’t her eyes. The eyes were scary, but the thing that scared me most was that someone Adam and I had put all our trust in, all our faith, was the very source of this mystery. It was typical. If it was anyone other than Donald, we’d ask Donald for help, and he’d help us. Work out the potential motives. Let us sit in his garden. But now Donald scared me. He scared Adam too. I could tell from the way he slumped when we spoke about him.

There was something unusual in Donald’s eyes. Something… new. I’d seen it when Carla went missing. Red. Distant. As if his mind were somewhere else. Something had changed inside Donald, and we didn’t know what yet. I saw those red eyes again, staring at us as we ran. Had he seen us? Each time the scene played out in my mind, it turned out a different way.

The rain pattered against the roof of the caravan as I drifted into a restless sleep.