Hold Your Breath (17 page)

‘Okay,’ said Tara. Leo dipped his face down to hers and kissed her. She closed her eyes and let herself be taken away from everything for a few moments. She never thought this would
happen again. It was impossible not to dance a little inside, despite everything.

He gave her a small smile, although his eyes were clouded by pain.

She smiled back. ‘Will you text me later if there’s news? Or if you want me to . . . you know, help in any way?’

‘Yeah, course,’ he said.

Tara stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him one final, hard kiss. ‘She’s going to be all right,’ she whispered, looking into his dark blue eyes. He closed
them for a second, as though making a wish.

‘I really hope so,’ he said. He said it so quietly that the words were mostly warm breath on her face.

Tara walked home slowly, mulling over all the complex emotions she was feeling. Maybe she hadn’t lost Leo after all. She’d been so sure . . .

She had to keep pushing back little flutters of pleasure. It was wrong to be happy when something horrible was happening to his sister.

It was only when she got to the house that she remembered the entire rest of her family was away. She opened the door and went inside, her improved mood deflating again. Sammie bounded up for an
enthusiastic welcome. Tara dropped to her knees and made a big fuss, trying to stave off the emptiness of the house that seemed to wrap itself around her. The thought of being here alone all
evening was horrible now. She even contemplated ringing Beck to ask if she could tag along to his poker party, but he wouldn’t be keen. Well, she couldn’t stay here, that was
certain.

‘Come on, boy,’ she said and went to the cupboard to get the lead, which prompted a rapturous response from Sammie, who bounced at her with his wide doggy smile. She clipped on the
lead and left the house.

It was cooler than she’d expected so she nipped back to get her cotton hoodie, slipping it on as they made their way down to the river. The Indian summer everyone had been on about seemed
to be ending now. Trees along the riverbank had leaves tipped in gold and red. There was a distinctive autumnal smell from a bonfire somewhere. It made Tara vividly remember being a kid, when
things like fireworks and Bonfire Night had seemed important.

She walked slowly, thinking about Leo and wondering whether there was any news on Melodie yet. She got out her phone a couple of times to check it hadn’t rung without her realising it,
even though she knew that was a bit daft when it was right there in her pocket.

She idly noticed people were up ahead. Tara recognised the woman and little girl on the bike she’d met that other time, the fateful evening when she’d seen Leo and Melodie fighting.
What a lot had happened since then . . .

The woman was calling out to the little girl, her back to Tara. Her body language transmitted impatience.

‘Hattie, will you
hurry up
?’ she said in an exasperated tone, walking backwards towards Tara. ‘I told you we shouldn’t bring the bike, didn’t I?
Didn’t I say you were too tired after nursery?’

The little girl started to wail; her mouth pink and round with misery. She wasn’t moving on the bike at all now. As Tara got closer, the woman turned to her and raised her eyes up, with a
weak smile.

‘Honestly!’ she said. ‘We’ll be here all day.’

Tara smiled back sympathetically.

‘I not coming!’ yelled Hattie, crossing her arms, comically cross.

‘Okay,’ said her mother, catching Tara’s eye and winking. ‘That’s fine, but
I’m
going to Nanna’s for tea, even if you’re not. Bye
then!’ She started to walk away.

The little girl’s eyes widened. ‘Mummeeee!’ she cried out. Then with a look of grim determination, her chubby knees started to work the pedals and the bike trundled slowly
forwards. She picked up speed and the bells tied to her handlebars tinkled. The little girl rode past Tara, shooting her a ridiculously grumpy look as she did so.

Ting, ting, ting, ting.

The little girl’s mother turned. ‘There’s my big girl!’ she called, grinning. ‘Come on, you’re going to beat me!’ She pretended to run as the little
girl speeded up.

Ting, ting, ting, ting.

Tara stopped walking. That sound . . .

What was it about that sound?

Adrenaline was coursing through her and her fingertips fizzed with energy. Why?
Why
did she feel like this? Something kept nudging the back of her mind, trying to make itself known.
Something important . . .

But what
was
it?

Then, as though someone had pressed a switch and flooded a dark room with light, Tara understood.

The bells had reminded her of the wind chimes at Riverdale Rise. But she’d heard those wind chimes somewhere else recently. Heard them when they shouldn’t have been there. When it
came to her, an icy chill grasped her insides. The chimes had been there, ever so faintly, in the background of Leo’s call from Melodie. The call that was meant to have come from Brighton.
But she had actually been
at the house
, or right by it.

Tara started to feel excited. She didn’t know what it meant, but it might be helpful. Melodie must have come back to the house for some reason. Why did she lie? Tara had no idea. Maybe she
was going to sneak off to spend time with Will first? But she’d never got to see him, or he would have said so. Which may mean she wasn’t far from home when she was snatched.

She had to tell Leo. Tara grabbed her phone and jabbed his number in with shaking fingers.

‘It’s Leo. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back.’

Tara hung up. She didn’t want to leave this as a message. There wasn’t time. Those people could be hurting –
cutting –
Melodie right now. Even though the very
thought made her feel sick with nerves, she knew what she had to do. She was going to have to force herself to go to the house and tell Faith directly. Even if it meant getting Leo into trouble for
telling her. This wasn’t about spooky ‘gifts’ or pictures. This was proper evidence; something she’d heard. They could hear too if he still had the message on his phone.
Tara felt a surge of brave determination.

She hadn’t been able to save Tyler Evans’s life.

But maybe she could help save Melodie Stone’s.

S
he crossed the bridge and quickly found her way to Riverdale Rise. As she got close to the house, she hesitated. Sammie was a pain with new people
and Tara didn’t want the distraction of trying to stop him from jumping all over Faith. She could tie him to the railings at the far end of number ten’s front garden. Mum wouldn’t
like her leaving him unattended but it would only be for a few minutes and, anyway, Faith probably wouldn’t invite her in, not with everything that was going on.

Tara tied the dog’s lead to the railings and he lay down with a sigh, dropping his head on his paws. Sammie regarded Tara sadly as she left him and approached the house.

She lifted the heavy door knocker and rapped twice.

There was no movement at all from inside. The house had an abandoned air. Tara shivered. She felt a bit sick and put it down to nerves. Or maybe she felt weird because this was Melodie’s
house and Tara was close to her things. Her chest tightened and she forced herself to take long, slow breaths.

Come on
, she thought.
Hold it together, Tara . . .

She rapped the door knocker again and this time could hear movement inside.

The door opened a crack. Faith peered out, blinking, as though the daylight hurt her eyes. She looked confused and then recognition crossed her face and she opened the door wider. Her eyes
seemed large in her small, pretty face. She was shorter than Tara – doll-like in her floaty summer dress that showed off thin white legs. She seemed vulnerable and small and it gave Tara
courage that she was doing the right thing. Imagine how Mum would feel if she, Tara, was the one missing? She
had
to try and help.

‘Hello again,’ said Faith in her soft voice. ‘What is it you want, lovey?’ Her slight smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, which looked tired, the delicate skin
beneath them almost translucent. ‘Only I’m a bit busy right now.’

‘Look, don’t be cross with Leo, okay?’ Tara blurted out, reflexively reaching out her hand. Faith looked at the hand curiously, as though it might be a dead fish, then up at
Tara’s face again. Tara started to blush furiously but hurried on. ‘The thing is, I know what’s going on . . . about Melodie.’

Faith’s eyes widened. Her cheek twitched as though someone was yanking a piece of thread attached to it. ‘What do you mean?’ she said, her voice lower now.

‘Leo, he, um, kind of told me,’ said Tara with a spiralling sensation that things were happening too fast. ‘We’re . . .’ She trailed off. What were they, exactly?
All they’d done was kiss twice. She wished she could speak properly. And feel less odd.

She took a breath. ‘Anyway the thing is that I heard a message on his phone and I realised something. I thought I should tell you in case it’s important to help you find her . .
.’ Her voice trailed off. Faith was looking at her intently, her fair eyebrows drawn together.

Footsteps behind her on the street made Tara turn. An elderly man with a small West Highland terrier on a lead had stopped. He was looking at them with suspicion on his face.

‘Evening, Ted,’ said Faith, smiling sweetly. ‘Can I help you with something?’

The man frowned and pulled his dog, which was stoically receiving Sammie’s nose at its bottom.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I was just wondering whether you’d thought any more about tidying up this front garden,’ he said stiffly. ‘Only the Residents’
Association and I, we think that —’

‘Of course!’ interrupted Faith brightly. ‘I’ll do it right now, shall I? Alternatively,’ she said, putting her finger to her cheek in a parody of deep thought,
‘you could just
bugger right off and drop dead
!’

The man’s eyes widened. Tara couldn’t help but gape. The man opened and closed his mouth, fish-like.

‘You’d better come in,’ said Faith wearily, putting her small, warm hand on Tara’s wrist. She drew her inside the house with surprising strength.

She closed the front door behind them and made an obscene gesture at the glass. ‘Miserable old git,’ she said. ‘All he does is go on and
on
.’

Tara smiled back at her uncertainly.

‘Why don’t you tell me all about it?’ Faith said. She walked along the hallway and down some steps at the end into another room. Tara hesitated. Her head began to spin a
little. The black and white floor tiles of the hallway seemed to shift and blur as though the pattern in them was being re-set every few seconds. There was a star-shaped crack near her foot and the
tiles were askew around it. Tara had to tell herself sternly not to trip, because she was dizzy enough to fall.

She pressed her hand to her chest as if she could slow her thudding heartbeat and picked her way around the bikes, boxes and piles of magazines in the hall. A ginger cat slunk in front of her,
meowing in a piteous way. Another cat, a sleek Siamese, was curled up on the staircase to her left and it regarded her lazily through jade-green eyes. A wave of dizziness washed over her and Tara
steadied herself by touching the long shelf that ran over a radiator running down the hallway. The shelf was cluttered with candles – some in wine bottles while others had melted in waxy
stalactites over the side of the shelf. The air smelt of their sweet perfume and cigarette smoke with an undertang of cat. A pile of bedding with a pillow on the top was at the bottom of the
stairs.

She followed Faith down the steps into a huge kitchen that led out onto the back garden. The kitchen was cluttered with newspapers, plates and cups on almost every surface.

A frying pan with congealing fat on the large Aga gave off a sour smell that caught in Tara’s throat. Faith sat at the table and picked up a wine glass with a grainy red residue that was
lying on its side. Tara’s mind instantly filled with a picture of blood scabbing on skin and she blinked hard, trying to get rid of it.

Faith lit up a cigarette and blew smoke out sideways, regarding Tara with one eye slightly closed. She tapped her ash onto a large white dinner plate with a gold rim around it that was already
crowded with cigarette butts.

‘Sit down, darling. Sorry it’s a mess, but . . .’ Her voice wobbled and she wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, her fingers curled inwards. ‘It’s a bad time
right now.’

Tara nodded, feeling lost for words temporarily. She felt so sick . . .

Faith spoke again. ‘Look, Leo really shouldn’t have told you what’s happening, you know. He could have made things bad for Mel. If it gets out . . .’ Her eyes blurred
with tears and she sucked savagely on her cigarette. Her face drifted in and out of focus and Tara blinked a couple of times.

Come on
, she thought,
get it out and then you can go home and lie down
. . .

‘It’s okay . . .’ She tried to breathe slowly. ‘Please don’t worry about me telling anyone. I promise I won’t. And don’t be angry with Leo. He’s
just scared.’

‘Aren’t we all?’ said Faith, blowing a perfect smoke ring. Tara’s stomach shuddered at the sharp smell. ‘Anyway, what was it you wanted to tell me,
sweet?’

Tara placed her hands flat on the table in an attempt to steady herself. It was sticky, so she withdrew them again and put them in her lap.

‘Melodie left a message for Leo after she was meant to be in Brighton,’ she said. ‘Anyway, there was this noise in the background, really faintly. It was your wind chimes! She
was
here
when she made that call. And she was all right then. At least, I think so. . .’ Her words petered out.

Faith remained expressionless. She didn’t even blink. Very slowly, she drew the cigarette up to her mouth and then seemed to change her mind, stubbing it out on the plate.

‘Lots of people have wind chimes,’ she said quietly, eyes cast down.