Through Dead Eyes (13 page)

The room was not very large and, being uncluttered, it was the work of seconds to determine that there was nothing in the room but he himself. And yet he felt compelled to check again – and again, even though he knew he would find nothing there. He could see he was alone, and yet that was not enough to stem the dread. Was he going mad? Was this what madness felt like?

Alex got up and walked over to the chest of drawers. The mask was on top again, as though waiting for him. Again the floor seemed to shift beneath him as though a trapdoor had been triggered.

He knew without question that his father hadn’t moved it this time. He desperately wanted to cling to the hope of some rational explanation, but there was none.

He picked it up. He felt the chill of it seep into his fingers. He walked to the window and pulled aside the heavy curtain. The canal and street outside looked unremarkable. A fine drizzle had made mirrors of the cobbles and they reflected the lights of the street lamps and shops.

Alex looked down at the mask and then back out at the view. He felt his heartbeat race at the thought of putting it on again. But there was a kind of excitement mixed with the fear.

Alex lifted the mask. He knew that he shouldn’t put it on, and yet he also knew that this was just what he was going to do.

He put it to his face and peered through the eyeholes. Once again the overwhelming impression was of darkness – a darkness that seemed to override that of the night. It was a darkness of the mind as much as it was a lack of light.

All the myriad points of light that only seconds before had illuminated the wet streets had now been extinguished, replaced by shifting levels of gloom.

Slowly, discernible shapes began to emerge from this black miasma. It was as though Alex was swimming through the deep, deep ocean, holding his breath and searching the dark waters for danger.

As before, all trace of the present had evaporated, and in its place was the cold and blue-black past, shimmering expectantly like a dark thought.

Alex could hear the strange echo of his own breath, muffled by the mask he held to his face and stifled by trepidation.

Then the children came as before, running and jumping. He could hear their twittering voices and the sound of their shoes and boots upon the cobbles and stone slabs.

His breaths came in faltering gasps. He knew now that he was seeing what Hanna had seen and if
she
saw ghosts then that is what he now saw.

And he knew now that it was true. He could see it in the horrible pallor of their skin – like something dug from under the ground, all pale and lifeless. He saw it too in the hollow of their cheeks and the dullness of their sunken, shadowed eyes.

He wished he was dreaming but he knew he wasn’t. If it was a dream he might wake up. He wished he could.

But he did not wake. He couldn’t even close his eyes against the vision he was seeing. The girl’s will was stronger than his. Because she chose to look, whilst he wore the mask, it seemed as though he must look also.

He could feel his brain revving like an engine forced uphill. His head seemed to be getting hotter and hotter, his breaths shorter, and then all at once the floor opened up beneath him and he dropped.

As he fell, he dropped the mask and the effect was almost instantaneous. Air flooded back into his lungs and he gasped like a man released from a noose.

Chapter 13

Alex stared at the food on his plate at breakfast, leaving it untouched. His father asked him if he would like to come into the office with him and see what was going on.

‘No,’ said Alex. ‘It’s OK.’

‘You’re sure?’ said his father. ‘Everything OK?’

‘I’m just tired,’ said Alex.

His father smiled.

‘To be honest,’ said his father. ‘It’s really not that interesting. I just thought you might want a break from Angelien.’

‘It’s OK,’ said Alex matter-of-factly. ‘I already texted her. We’re meeting here a bit later.’

Alex’s father nodded. ‘But you’re sure everything is all right?’

‘Yes!’ hissed Alex.

‘OK then,’ said his father curtly. ‘It’s just that you seem a bit –’

‘I’m
fine
,’ he said. ‘I’m completely fine.’

His father nodded and took a sip of coffee.

‘Well then,’ he said. ‘I’d better get going. Stay and finish your breakfast.’

Alex’s father got up, dropping his napkin on to the table, and left Alex in the café.

Alex sat staring into the distance. Today he had to tell Angelien what he had seen. He had to find some way of making her listen without thinking he was crazy or, worse, some kind of childish fantasist.

The important thing, he decided, was not to just blurt it all out. That really would sound crazy. He needed to take his time and tell her calmly and sensibly.

Angelien texted ten minutes later to say she was in the hotel lobby, and Alex grabbed his jacket and bag and went out to meet her.

‘I thought we might go to the Van Gogh museum today,’ said Angelien as they left the hotel. ‘What do you think? Do you like Van Gogh?’

‘Yeah,’ said Alex. ‘I mean I haven’t seen that much. I’m not sure I’ve seen any real ones.’

‘OK then,’ said Angelien. ‘Then we should definitely go. It’s my favourite museum in Amsterdam. Let’s have a coffee first though, huh? Have you had breakfast?’

Angelien took him to a café where she ordered coffee and croissants. ‘I used to come to this café when I was a kid, with my dad,’ said Angelien. ‘It still looks exactly the same.’

Alex watched through the window as a cat curled up on the bonnet of a car on the opposite side of the road. He suddenly felt very tired.

‘It will all work out fine,’ said Angelien with a smile. ‘Believe me.’

Alex smiled. He wanted to believe her.

Several times as they walked along after leaving the café, Alex was about to tell Angelien about looking through the mask, but each time he found that the words would not come. It was going to sound stupid, however he started. He wasn’t going to get very far before she laughed in his face.

He was sure that she would think he was dreaming or even making it up. Whichever, he was sure that she would think he was being childish and he didn’t want that. He really did not want that.

Besides, he was less and less sure of what he had seen as the morning drew on. Was it impossible that he had dreamt the whole thing? It seemed more comforting to think that he had.

‘I read some more of Graaf’s journal last night,’ said Angelien.

‘Yeah?’ said Alex.

‘It seems like she used to sit in the window of the house, day after day, looking out at the street. Kids in the neighbourhood would run past when they got to that stretch of the canal or avoid that street entirely. They would dare each other to look at her masked face.’

Alex frowned, imagining Hanna, day after day, the relentless ticking of the clock, the airless room, the window, and her silhouette against it, staring out across the canal, the sound of running feet in the street outside.

‘And she never left the house?’ said Alex.

Angelien shook her head.

‘Never?’ he said.

‘Doesn’t seem like it,’ said Angelien. ‘And it seems – not surprisingly – as though her time spent holed up in that house had driven her a bit crazy. All that talk of seeing the ghosts of plague children . . .’

Alex turned away and looked towards the canal. Leaves were drifting by on its sepia waters. He had to say something. He had to tell her that he had seen those ghost children himself.

But even as he thought this he was full of doubts: was he seeing the past or was he seeing the madness of Hanna’s damaged mind? Was he dreaming? Maybe he was the crazy one.

Then Alex heard footsteps and when he looked round, Dirk was walking towards them, grinning. There was something lupine about his face.

‘What’s
he
doing here?’ said Alex coldly.

‘Nice to see you too,’ said Dirk.

‘You said he wouldn’t be coming along any more,’ said Alex.

Dirk put his arm round Alex and clutched his shoulder, his fingers digging into him. He made it look friendly but Alex could tell it was meant to hurt and it did.

‘You won’t tell, will you, Alex?’ he said.

Alex shrugged him away.

‘Get lost!’ said Alex.

‘OK, tough guy,’ he said.

‘Shut up, Dirk,’ said Angelien.

‘I’m not scared of you,’ said Alex unconvincingly.

‘You should really be quiet,’ said Dirk. ‘I don’t like bullies. They are usually cowards, you know.’

‘You would know,’ said Alex.

‘Me?’ said Dirk with a shrug. ‘No. I’m not a bully, my friend. I don’t hassle girls with emails and Facebook and so on. It makes me sick, actually – cyber-bullying. That really is a coward’s way, huh? They should be a lot stricter with people who do that kind of thing . . .’

Alex stared at Angelien and she put her hands to her face and cursed under her breath.

‘What?’ said Dirk, laughing.

Angelien looked at Alex but he could see by her expression that she really had said that. She turned angrily to Dirk and slapped him in the stomach with the back of her hand.

‘Hey!’ he said with a laugh. ‘You said you were sick of babysitting. You said it wasn’t worth the money your mother was paying you and –’

‘Dirk,’ she hissed and turned to Alex, reaching out towards him.

‘She’s paying you to look after me?’ said Alex.

‘I know how it sounds,’ said Angelien. ‘But –’

‘I don’t care,’ said Alex. ‘You said I’d change my mind about you when I got to know you better. You’re right. You are weird. Weird and –’

‘Alex.’

‘Leave me alone.’

He shook his head and, ignoring the shouts behind him, walked away over the bridge, tears filling his eyes.

Alex had been walking for a few minutes when a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned expecting to see Angelien but was instead faced by Dirk. He saw Alex’s reaction and put his hands up and backed away a little.

‘It’s OK, man,’ he said. ‘Look, I’m sorry, OK? I acted like an idiot. Angelien told me to come and say sorry.’

‘OK, so you said it,’ said Alex, turning away and starting to walk off.

Dirk stepped around and in front of him blocking his way. Alex stopped and stared back at him coldly. Behind him further down the road, he could see Angelien waiting.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Come on. I’ve said sorry.’

Alex bit on his bottom lip. He felt sure that it was only Angelien watching that prevented Dirk from grabbing him by the throat.

‘Look,’ he said. ‘I just want to get back to my hotel.’

Dirk smiled.

‘Then you’re heading in the wrong direction, my friend.’

Alex didn’t reply.

‘Come on,’ said Dirk, stepping a little closer. ‘We can be cool about this, huh? Angelien thinks you will go to your dad and get her into trouble again. But I said you wouldn’t do that.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because you like Angelien,’ he said with a smile. ‘And you won’t want to get her in trouble.’

He felt sick. Angelien had told Dirk everything. Alex imagined them in a café together laughing about him. He felt like Dirk had reached into his chest and was squeezing his heart.

Dirk leaned closer and dropped his voice.

‘I don’t want to hear that Angelien’s witch of a mother knows about this,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t make me come looking for you, OK?’

Angelien slowly walked towards them.

Dirk slapped him on the back.

‘Cool!’ he said loudly. ‘You’re OK, my friend.’

‘Everything OK, boys?’ she said.

‘Sure,’ said Dirk. ‘Alex is cool. Aren’t you, Alex?’

‘Yeah,’ he said.

Angelien looked relieved.

‘So where shall we go next?’ she said. ‘Dirk was just going and –’

‘Actually I think I’m just going to head back to the hotel,’ said Alex.

‘Really?’ said Angelien. ‘We’ll walk you back.’

‘Nah,’ said Alex. ‘I’ve got a map. I’ll be fine.’

‘But –’ began Angelien.

‘You heard the man,’ said Dirk, grabbing hold of Angelien. ‘He’s fine. He’s not a baby. He can find his way back to the hotel without you, can’t you, Alex?’

When they had left him, Alex took out his map. Initially he had every intention of returning to the hotel, but as he walked he found that he was being irresistibly drawn in another direction.

Alex walked on, head bowed, staring at the cobbles, his feet seeming to have a will of their own.

Every step he took reminded him of Dirk’s sneering face and the bitterness he felt ran through his whole body like a disease. He ached with it.

All of a sudden Alex stopped. When he looked up, he found himself outside of a shop. He looked in through the window and saw that it was filled with rolls of fabric, multi-coloured buttons and spools of thread.