What We Saw (22 page)

I walked up to the desk, gently pushing Adam out of the way as his bewildered eyes tried to make sense of the scene around him. It didn’t matter how insignificant everything might have been. Adam and I had always strived to see what hid behind this thick, wooden door—the one place that Donald seemed eager for us not to see. It was almost inevitable that the truth turned out to be something of a disappointment.

But we had achieved something. We had broken into somewhere we weren’t supposed to be and put everything on the line for the good of our friend.
My girlfriend.
The light had pierced through the night sky and could have caught anyone’s attention, so we needed to make however long we had count. Whether the police caught us or whether Donald caught us, I had to know what was going on. We both had to know.

I stumbled over to the desk, pulling the cord on an old lamp. It was like something you’d find in an antique shop. There were no windows in the cabin. The only way for light to escape was that thick door, and we were behind it now, enclosed. The dust glistened in the beam of the lamp as I switched it on, awakening it from a deep sleep. I glanced around the desk eager to find something, some crucial bit of information. But there were papers piled on top of papers. Newspaper reports of old sports matches. Holiday brochures of the caravan site.

And a photo album.

I reached to pick it up. It didn’t look as dusty as the rest of the things in the cabin. I noticed a pink post-it note folded at the top to form a bookmark. As I began to turn the cover back, the floorboards creaked behind me. I swerved round and saw that Adam had his ears at the door, his eyes scanning the air in concentration.

‘There’s someone outside,’ he whispered.

I stopped with my hand still perched on top of the photo album. If we had to run, I was taking this with me. It could be nothing, but then again, it could be everything. The key to solving all of our mysteries. And I wasn’t prepared to let that go. I squinted and closed my eyes, trying to hear whatever it was that Adam heard. There was nothing but eerie silence, my racing pulse, and the occasional hooting of the night owl, watching down on us from above.

And footsteps.

Somewhere in the distance, there was absolutely no doubt about it. The crunching of twigs beneath somebody’s feet. I felt my stomach rise into my chest as the vibrations of my heart echoed in my head.
Nobody came out walking at this time of night.

And then the noise stopped. Just as suddenly as it started, the noise disappeared completely. I squinted and looked at Adam to check if he could still hear it, but he shook his head, still peering in case it started again.

‘Let’s just carry on searching,’ I said, eager to make some sort of progress. I scratched the back of my head as Adam huffed and puffed around. We had to get what we could and get out of here. If the police found us, we could get framed for something we hadn’t done. If Donald or Emily’s dad found us… I dreaded to think. Adam nodded and looked at the photo album I had in my hand for the first time. ‘What is it?’ he asked.

I wiped the dust off the green linen cover. The shade had faded with wear and tear.
It must be more ancient than Gran.
‘A photo album, I think.’

I opened the cover to the front pages, which stuck together, yellowing like coffee-stained old books. There was writing in the top corner of one of the pages—or at least there once had been, but it had faded away. ‘
Time’s way of hiding secrets,’
Granddad once told me. I turned the page again, this time to the pink bookmark. Something heavy slipped out onto the floor. Adam reached down to pick it up, but he hadn’t seen what I had. Her eyes, staring back at me, in her white wedding dress. His arm around her shoulder, looking younger and sharper but with that same noticeable smile. The same narrow glasses mounted underneath his sweeping fringe.

It was Donald, handing the dead girl over to her new groom. Except the girl wasn’t the girl we’d seen in the paper—the missing girl. It was his daughter, and her recognisable, glistening ring.

P.S.

I tried to comprehend what was in front of me and felt a sudden coldness.
Had Donald… had he killed his daughter?
Where did Emily figure in all of this? Had he lost it and gone on a rampage?
All the pieces of an immense puzzle slotted together at that moment, but the picture still didn’t make complete sense. We needed to go to the police. We had our evidence.

I turned to Adam, who stared at the piece of rock in front of him, glancing between it and the photo. ‘Adam, do you understand now? Fucking hell—this is it.’

He nodded, his eyes widening at the depth of discovery we had made. The way he stood there, unmoving, reassured me that he had figured it out too, and didn’t need any telling. Why was he so preoccupied with the piece of stone in front of him?

‘Adam, what is it?’ I asked. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

Adam flipped it over in his hand and rubbed its smooth surface. There were little scratches on it and chips where it looked like it had been hit. A marking on the edge. It didn’t make sense at first, but as Adam spoke, it dawned on me how important and gut wrenching a discovery this actually could be. ‘I think I know where he’s taken Emily, cuz.’

I stared at the rock in front of me, trying to get a good glimpse it in the dim, flickering light. The stone was recognisable—it was from the old derelict house up the hill, with its crumbling grey brick.
What would Donald be doing up there?
There could only be one answer.

Adam lowered his arm, as mechanical as a crane, and placed the stone back on the floor. We stared at each other for a few moments, the weight of discovery washing over us. First, we’d found out who the girl was—the dead girl. And now we knew that the house was probably related in some way. Maybe he’d killed her there. Maybe he’d taken Emily to her similar fate.

But something still didn’t make sense.

‘But what about the girl in the paper?’ I asked Adam.

Adam shrugged, still staring at the stone on the floor. ‘I guess we were wrong about that. Or maybe it’s the same girl.’

I shook my head. ‘But the P.S on the ring… and she doesn’t look much like she did in the paper. It wouldn’t make sense. Plus the dead girl we saw… she had brown eyes, like this girl. Donald’s daughter.’

Adam shook his head. ‘I don’t remember what colour her eyes were.’

We’d only opened up more questions. My head spun as we stood there in the pasty lighting. I wanted to go home and cuddle Carla. Adam stared at the stone. I could see from the glimmer in his eyes what he was thinking. ‘We can’t go out there now,’ I said.

Adam shrugged his shoulders and slumped his head towards the floor. He looked back up at me with a sarcastic smile on his face. ‘So when do you reckon we go out there? She could be waiting for us, Liam, and you want to wait?’

My stomach burned. ‘Look, I’m not saying we don’t go out there. Just… maybe we tell someone about it, and get them to come with us? Even Granddad?’ I knew it was a stupid suggestion, but it was all I had. I prepared myself to be shot down.

Adam’s chesty laugh confirmed my suspicion. There was no turning back now. He investigated the desk, shuffling papers about. He opened drawers, which were coated with cobwebs and dust. ‘A ha!’ He pulled a small, blue torch out of one of the lower drawers, flicking the switch on and off to test whether it worked. It emitted a pure white beam.

The reality of our situation began to settle in the recesses of my gut. The two of us had only just identified the dead girl, and even then, it felt like I hadn’t really learned anything more than I already knew. Maybe mystery just bred more mystery after all. At school, Mr. Blacksmith always said we are a product of our surroundings or something.

‘Adam, this isn’t right,’ I said. ‘What if we get caught?’

Adam shook his head and slapped my cheek. ‘Sort yourself out, Liam. We’re doing this together, right?’

His apparent lack of fear inspired and absolutely terrified me at the same time. I wondered if somewhere, deep inside him, he had the same worries as me and was just better at disguising them. He leaned against the door, and I pulled him towards me. His breath was sickly sweet—the smell of someone who had eaten something after brushing their teeth for the night. I looked down at my watch: 1:45 am. My nerves danced in my gut. ‘What about Gran and Granddad?’

Adam scoffed. ‘What about them?’

‘Well, they’re going to be worried sick,’ I said, looking into his eyes. ‘They could have an accident. They could walk into our room and find our empty beds. It’ll kill Gran, Adam. It’ll kill her.’

Adam flinched when I said the word ‘kill.’ He looked towards the ground.

‘Adam… I know you want to do this, but we need to go to the police. We need to tell them about Donald and about Emily’s dad and everything. It’s out of our control now.’

He looked in my eyes, and put his hands on my shoulders. ‘Cuz, I know you’re scared, and I’m scared too. But we’ve gotta go out and see what’s there. I know we’re only kids and people think we don’t care, but I know how much this means to you and it means the same to me, too. It means everything to me, and you mean everything to me because you’re all I’ve got left. I don’t have no mum and I don’t have no dad. This is all I have. Please.’

I was rooted to the spot. I forgot everything else. Adam’s eyes grew more and more watery in the dim light, and I felt a lump in my throat as I tried to speak. I searched my head for all sorts of words and ways in which I could reply, but I just couldn’t.

Instead, I rested my head against his head, smiled, and nodded. I grabbed him and gave him the biggest hug I’d ever given anyone in my life and let the tears fall down his back. The shoulder of my hoodie felt damp too. Adam’s hands dug into my back like claws as he clutched me.

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Shut up, you haven’t done anything,’ Adam whimpered.

My mind spun. ‘No, I am sorry,’ I spluttered. ‘I can be an idiot sometimes, and I know what you’ve been through, and I’m so sorry for that. Just sometimes with all the stuff with my mum and dad. It gets to me, too, and I just don’t know what to do or what to say. I just wish things could be okay again. I just wish I’d spoken about it more.’

Adam patted my back. ‘I’m here for you too, cuz,’ he said.

After what felt like ages, we parted. Adam shoved me back and wiped his face, disguising any remnants of moisture on his cheeks as well as he could. I felt the lump in my throat subside, as tears tickled my cheeks.

‘You know I’m here, Ad,’ I said.

He looked at me for a second and glanced at the floor, shuffling his feet. He reached for the door handle and, grasping the light cord with his other hand, readied himself for our descent into the darkness. ‘Yeah, yeah. You ready to do this, Liam?’

For a moment, I felt free of everything. All the weight and stress of my own problems seemed insignificant as I prepared for a journey into the unknown.

‘Let’s do this,’ I said, my voice cracking.

Adam tugged the cord and opened the door. We were engulfed in complete and utter darkness.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I heard the cries of the night surround me. Adam went to take the first steps out of the cabin, but I pushed ahead of him. We had a rough idea where the house was in the day—we just had to keep following the hill upwards, and there it sat. But the night was a different matter altogether. The bright glow of the torch lit the place up like a crime scene. Nearby objects reflected the light as leaves danced along the ground in the gentle breeze. I grabbed Adam’s arm, and we began to walk.

I thought about Emily out here, all on her own. Tied up somewhere near the house. I thought about what Donald had done to the dead girl. To his own daughter.
Had he done it at night?
I pictured him luring her out there to see the woods, before finishing her with a shovel.

I still couldn’t get the smiling face of Beth Swanson from the newspaper out of my head. I shivered—something still didn’t seem right there.
I guess that’s someone else’s mystery to solve.

A fox scurried past, its beady little eyes winking back in the soft glow of the light. I felt Adam shudder, his arm jolting in the firm grip of my left hand. I felt strong, somehow. Like I was looking after him, the way I always should have done.

The wind picked up and the birds began to chirp, probably confused by our presence. 2:00 am now. The trees reached out at us as the woods began to thicken, the branches clawing out like monster’s arms. As the hill began to steepen, it became incredibly hard to stay on both feet. I slipped on a few loose twigs, grazing my dirty right hand, and pulled Adam down with me. He pulled me back to my feet, my sense of power diminished.

Trekking up that hill felt like forever, every little movement catching my eye. The blue torch only shone for a few metres, so anything could be out there in front of us. Plus, it would see us before we saw it.

Adam stopped and turned the torch around, swamping my view in complete darkness. I shuffled round to see what his problem was, as he shone the light all around the way we’d walked and to the side of us. He stepped backwards, slowly.

‘What’s up?’ I asked.

He paused for a moment, refusing to reply.

‘Oy, what’s u—’

‘Did you not hear it? I heard it in the woods.’

My eyes danced around the scene behind us. I saw things that hadn’t been there before. Things shaking in the distance. The arms of the trees moving in, ready to grab me. My hands stung as the sweat of my palms seeped into the cuts from my fall.

‘Did you hear that, Adam?’

Adam didn’t reply again but pointed his torchlight at a spot in front of us—a tree stump that was hollow in the centre. His eyes were fixed on it and open wide.

‘Ad, did you hea—’

‘Look at that,’ he said, his eyes and torch still fixed on the spot.

‘Look at what?’

Adam raised his other arm, pointing towards the base of the tree. I followed the path of his arm with my eyes. At first, I didn’t see anything of great relevance, but as I stepped into the glow of the light, I saw what Adam had been so startled about.