Snatched (40 page)

Not that she’d had too many men – despite what everyone back on the estate thought. Terry had been her first, and she’d married him – which was the ultimate in respectability in her mind. And even when he’d left her for Leanne, she hadn’t gone wild as everyone had assumed. She’d just made a wild new friend. But Julie had been a big, warm, comforting presence in her life just when she’d needed it most, so she’d gone along with her lifestyle of going out every weekend and having fun, even though she hadn’t actually enjoyed it all that much.

Now she desperately wanted Dave to know that she was a decent woman. And that meant keeping a tight rein on herself, even though his kisses were getting to her in a way that no other man had managed since Terry. She was his girlfriend, and it was important that he respected her, or their relationship would never be as strong as she was determined to make it.

Taking Connor into their bedroom now, she put a nappy on him and pulled his pyjama bottoms up over it. Then, tucking him into bed with his new game, she got herself ready to go out.

Kissing Connor when Dave tapped on the door a short time later, she told him to be a good boy. Then, taking a deep breath, she went out to have her first proper date with her new man.

17

Connor was bored. It was their second Saturday at the house, and his mum had gone out shopping with Dave again. The batteries in his DS had run out just after they had left, so he couldn’t play with that. And there was nothing on TV but sport – which he hated. So he wandered over to the window and, resting his forehead against the cold glass, peered out at the jungle.

Things had changed since Dave had taken his mum out for a drink that first night. Connor didn’t know what had happened, but something must have, because she’d been acting weird ever since; always blushing when Dave looked at her, and giggling when he spoke to her. And if she caught Connor watching, she’d do something odd with her eyes at Dave, and then he’d go out of the room and call for her to follow him upstairs for a ‘quick word’ about something or other. And then Connor would hear even more giggling, and loads of banging noises, like they were bouncing on the bed, or something. And they usually fell off, by the sounds of it, because then they would start moaning like they’d hurt themselves.

It happened every day, sometimes more than once, and sometimes even at night when Connor was trying to get to sleep. He didn’t see why they didn’t just stop it if they always ended up getting hurt, because that was what his mum would have told
him
to do. But Dave’s dad never told them off about it, so Connor presumed that they mustn’t be doing anything bad.

Connor didn’t actually mind being left on his own. In fact it was easier for him, because he had to be so careful not to do anything stupid when his mum and Dave were around, and he was constantly worrying about making funny noises, or needing to go to the toilet. But none of that seemed quite so urgent when he was alone.

Anyway, he couldn’t look out for the rabbit when they were here. Not only because it was his secret, and he didn’t want to share it, but because he had a feeling that if Dave found out that it was out there, he might never see it again – like he hardly ever saw his mum.

He’d named the rabbit Barney, and when he saw it he spoke to it in his head, trying to project the thoughts at it through the window. He’d seen it a few times now, and each time he’d felt the same thrill of excitement as the first time. Especially when Barney came up close to the edge of the brambles and looked straight at him. That made Connor feel like they were friends, which was good, seeing as he hadn’t seen anybody else since he’d come to live here, apart from his mum, Dave, and old Mr Miller.

His dad had rung a few days after they had moved in, but his mum had lied and said that she couldn’t let him pick Connor up that Sunday because the social workers were coming round for the day – which they
hadn’t
. She’d promised to take Connor to meet him in the park outside Julie’s the following Sunday, though. And that was tomorrow, so Connor was really excited about it. But he was nervous, too, because she hadn’t mentioned it all week, and he was just praying that she hadn’t changed her mind and cancelled it again without telling him.

He didn’t believe much of what she said any more, because he knew that it could change at the drop of a hat depending on what Dave wanted. Like today, she’d promised that she wouldn’t be long, but they’d already been ages. But even if they came back right this very minute, they would probably just go upstairs to play without him again.

‘You got nothing to do, son?’ Jack Miller asked, coming into the room just then and finding Connor slumped on the window ledge. ‘Every time I see you, you’re in some kind of a dream world.’

Turning his head slightly, Connor gazed up at him. He was no longer terrified of the old man, because he’d hardly seen him in the week they’d been here. And when he did see him, his voice was always quiet and kind. But Connor still wouldn’t talk to him. They both knew that.

‘I don’t see why you don’t just go out if you’re so fascinated by it,’ Jack said now, going to his chair and sitting down to roll his habitual cigarette. ‘That’s what boys did in my day – got out there in the dirt and made themselves a den.’

Intrigued, Connor tilted his head.

‘Oh, aye,’ Jack went on, aware that he’d caught his interest. ‘Me and my friends used to go out at sunrise, and we wouldn’t come home till our mams called us in for supper. We’d be out there all day, digging trenches and fighting the Germans, or climbing trees and building hideaways. You ever had a hideaway, son?’

Connor shook his head. He’d never even heard of whatever one of them was, but it sounded good.

Sighing, Jack said, ‘No, I bet you haven’t. That’s the trouble with parents today; too quick to stick their kids in front of the computer or the telly while they get on with their own thing. Never mind letting you get some fresh air in your lungs. No bloody wonder you’ve all got colds and asthma.’ Lighting his cigarette now, he sucked on it and peered at Connor thoughtfully. ‘Want to go out?’ he asked after a moment. Seeing the instant spark of
Can I?
in Connor’s eyes, he jerked his head towards the door. ‘Go on, then . . . what’s stopping you?’

Connor wasn’t sure if he was allowed. Mr Miller was telling him to do it, but what if his mum came back and thought he’d just gone out without permission. And if Mr Miller was back upstairs by then, he wouldn’t tell her any different. And Connor couldn’t.

As if reading his mind, Jack said, ‘It’s all right, son. I’ll tell your mam where you are. Go on.’

Walking hesitantly, Connor went to the door. Glancing back one last time, he waited until Mr Miller nodded, then dashed out.

It was icily cold outside, and the wind whipped at his face as soon as he stepped out of the back door. Shivering, because he hadn’t thought to put his coat on, he dragged the sleeves of his jumper down as far as they would go and wrapped his arms around himself.

Wandering down the side of the house, he stopped when he came to the outskirts of the jungle. It looked even wilder and higher now that he was in front of it, and he couldn’t see any immediate way into it. So, walking sideways, he edged his way along the narrow track between the house and the first line of bushes, heading for the small clearing where he usually saw Barney the rabbit. Squatting down there, he peered through the tangle of roots. There was no sign of movement, but he was sure he could crawl through if he got down on his knees.

It was like a whole new world on the underside. It was still cold, but the wind wasn’t reaching him, so it was nowhere near as bad. And everything sounded strangely muted, as if he were under a huge blanket. It gave him a feeling of isolation that he’d so far only experienced inside his own head, but the sensation was heightened and made more exciting by the fact that this time it was physical as well as mental. Feeling like an explorer in a lost world, far away from everyone else, he inched his way in.

Watching through the window as Connor’s feet slowly disappeared from view, Jack shook his head sadly. The poor little bugger didn’t have a clue how to play. And he was far too happy being by himself, which was a real sign that it happened too often.

Jack had picked up enough of Sue and David’s conversations over the past few days to know that the boy had problems which meant he couldn’t talk, but that wasn’t all that was wrong with the boy, he was sure. There was some sort of deep-rooted sadness in him that went well beyond so-called shock.

But there was no point worrying too much about him, because they were only staying temporarily, from what he could gather. Although the amount of time Sue had spent in David’s bedroom lately, Jack didn’t think she seemed all that eager to leave just yet.

Still, he didn’t mind her being here, because at least she wasn’t like David’s last one. And unlike David, she was respectful of the fact that this was
his
house. And she’d been keeping it nice and clean, which was a welcome change. She actually reminded him of Mary, because Mary hadn’t been a big talker, either. She’d just been a nice, warm presence about the place. And Sue, with her perfume trailing in her wake and her soft voice, filled a bit of the gap that Mary had left behind in Jack’s life.

Shame she couldn’t break whatever spell David had woven over her and spend a bit more time with the boy. But she did love him, Jack could see that. It was just David being David; demanding all of her time and attention for himself. But he’d soon revert to his old ways, Jack was sure. All this affection he was displaying, and the talking and listening, wasn’t who David really was. He was either really into this one, or he was playing some kind of game with her. And knowing David as well as he did, Jack would bet his life that it was the latter. Although with what aim in mind, he had no idea.

Connor came to a small clearing midway through the jungle. Standing up to survey his surroundings, he brushed the soil off his knees, glad that it hadn’t been raining lately, because it would be so much harder to stay clean if the ground was muddy and his mum would go mad.

Turning to look back towards the house, he could just about see it through the tall grass. He couldn’t see Mr Miller behind the net, but he sensed that he was there. But it wasn’t a horrible sensation, like when he felt Dave’s eyes on him, because this didn’t feel like being spied on, it just felt like being watched over, and that was all right.

Looking in the other direction now, he realised that he could see the broken-down old shed far more clearly. It was still a fair distance away, but he could see the corrugated tin roof now, and the worn, dull metal walls. There was a small window in the side, too, with several broken panes which looked like they had been boarded over from the inside.

Wondering if this was what Mr Miller had meant by a hideaway, because it looked like the kind of place where no one would ever find you if you got inside, Connor started to push his way through the brambles that were standing between him and the building.

It took him a good fifteen minutes to get anywhere near, and it started to get really stinky before he reached it. It was a really dirty kind of smell, like a toilet that hadn’t been cleaned, Connor thought. And there were other smells, like damp soil and rotting vegetables.

Somebody had been here before him, because there was a narrow path of trodden-down grass and brambles over to his right. Thinking that he would go back by that route, because it would be easier than fighting back the way he’d come, Connor went right up to the shed. The window was too high, so even if it hadn’t been boarded over he wouldn’t have been able to see through it. But, making his way around to the door, he found that it had a huge padlock on it, and several bolts, some way up at the top.

Going around the back, his foot slipped on loose soil and stones and he cried out as he felt himself falling. Clutching at a thick old root, he sat down with a bump. It was a steep drop, and there were more gnarly trees growing out at a horizontal angle. Through these, Connor could see the glimmer of water rushing along a narrow rocky stream. And now that he’d seen it, he realised that he could just about hear the trickling waters above the sound of the hissing wind.

And then he heard something else. A thin, pitiful crying sound.

Straining his ears, he cocked his head. It was fading in and out as the wind gusted, but it was definitely there. And it sounded like . . .

Clutching at the root, Connor hauled himself back up to his feet, his heart pounding painfully in his chest as his breath came in ragged bursts.

It couldn’t be Nicky, because she’d run away. What would she be doing here at Dave’s house?

He wanted to call out to her, to see if it really was her or if he was imagining things. But the sound wouldn’t come. And anyway, he didn’t dare, because someone else might hear him. And if they thought he could talk again, they’d expect him to answer all the questions they had been storing up for him.

In the distance, Connor heard the sound of a car. Knowing that it must be his mum and Dave coming back from the shops, because no one else ever drove up the lane, he lurched back to level ground and thrashed his way through to the trodden-down section. Running hell for leather back up to the house, he burst through the back door just as the car turned in through the rusty gates.

Chuckling softly when he saw the wildness of Connor’s eyes as he ran back into the living room, Jack cocked his finger, beckoning the boy over to him.

‘So, you’d rather they didn’t know you’d been out, would you?’ he said perceptively, plucking stray bits of grass and twigs out of Connor’s hair and off his jumper. ‘Well, that’s okay by me, son. It can be our little secret.’ Rubbing the knees of Connor’s trousers roughly now, he whispered, ‘Slip your shoes off and stick ’em under my chair. I’ll give them a going-over later.’