Part 17 (2/2)
He took a deep breath and patted his chest as if to encourage his heart to keep beating.
”I took a walk up to the lake.”
She was wearing a T-s.h.i.+rt that barely reached her thighs. Across the b.r.e.a.s.t.s were the words: Oh, you know what I want you to doa ”What have you got there?” she asked, nodding at the letter in John's hand.
”Oh nothing. Just a chocolate wrapper or something.”
”Well, get rid of it quickly, then come to bed.” She smiled back at him as they crossed the kitchen. ”It's the start of the weekend, you know? ”
”Cominga you go to bed, too, Sam.”
The dog stepped onto his bean bag in the corner of the kitchen, turned round a couple of times, then curled himself down onto it, his tail covering his nose, but his eyes still bright and watchful as John stepped on the pedal of the trash.
”All done?” She waited for him at the kitchen door.
He smiled, nodded, and mimed dropping something into the trash, then let the lid drop down. Without Val noticing, he slipped the letter into the back pocket of his jeans.
And just what would the letter say this time?
He knew he would have to read it, driven by the same impulse that makes you look at a car wreck as you drive by, but he couldn't do so now without Val seeing. It would have to wait until morning. Good G.o.d, the world of secrets. But, he told himself, his motives were pure. There's no point in worrying the family unnecessarily.
A moment later he killed the lights and darkness claimed the ancient house.
5.
Elizabeth lay in bed. Wide-awake, she picked at the scab beneath her chin. The thing itched now like spiders burrowing under her skin. No way could she sleep with this p.r.i.c.king and itching.
s.h.i.+t, she thought with a wicked grin. s.h.i.+t. It's itchy s.h.i.+t.
Switching on her flashlight that she kept by the bed, she shone it at her wall clock. Three 'o clock. That's three in the morning, she told herself. She'd never seen what the outside world looked like at this time. She went to the window, pulled the roller blind away from the gla.s.s at the bottom (in a way she had been forbidden to do)-but who would see her now?
s.h.i.+t could see me now. She grinned at her reflection. s.h.i.+t could see me.
Outside the lawn was as black as deepwater. The sky was dark, too. She could only see the lumpy silhouette of a bush.
”s.h.i.+t dark,” she murmured. ”Dark as s.h.i.+t.”
Everyone was asleep. Mum, Dad, Paul. Down in the kitchen Sam would be curled up in his bed. The world slept, too. She couldn't see any birds flying in the night sky. Everything lay still.
Elizabeth was about to return to bed when she saw a face looking up from the patio at her. She couldn't make out a mouth or a nose, but the eyes were huge and dark, and they stared straight up at her. Maybe it was Emma? They'd talked about going out on a secret adventure one night. Maybe Emm had come now. Elizabeth rolled up the blind, then pushed open the window. Instantly the smell of damp slithered up her nostrils.
It wasn't Emm, but it was a girl of around her own age. Eight or nine perhaps. She'd fixed her eyes on Elizabeth's. They were intense, serious looking eyes. For some reason Elizabeth found it hard to break away. And there were times when they didn't look like dark eyes at alla only holes that ran deep inside her head.
Then the girl spoke. ”Elizabeth. Do you want to see where I live?” The girl held out her hand.
Elizabeth shook her head. ”I'm not allowed out by myself at night.”
”Me neither. I'll get into trouble if he finds I've gone.”
The girl held up her hands as if ready to catch Elizabeth if she jumped from the window. ”I'm bored, Elizabeth. I want to show you where I live.”
”Sorry. I'm going back to bed now.”
”No. Please don'ta I'll wait until you come down. We'll only be a few minutes and it would be so nice to talk with you for a while.”
”Where do you come from?”
”Near here.”
”No,” Elizabeth said. ”Where did you first come from?”
”Sorry. I don't understand what you mean.”
”Your accent's different.”
”I was born here. I've always lived here.” The accent was the same as those in old black and white movies. Then the girl paused. She gazed up with those eyes that looked like holes bored deep into a slab of wood. ”Please spend some time with me.”
Now this was a strange thing. Elizabeth didn't remember leaving the house. Only all of a sudden she found herself walking down the lane with the white-faced girl.
Whiteface stared at her. The eyes were round and dark. Even though Elizabeth was this close now the girl's eyes still looked like holes. Just holes in white wood.
It was cold out here, despite it being a summer's night. Cold. Dark. And not a happy place to be. The lane ran ahead of them, a pale strip lying between monstrous growths of trees that reached up and over them with dark, ragged arms.
Ready to pounce, Elizabeth.
She shook her head. She shouldn't be out. Not with this white-faced girl with black holes for eyes.
”Not far now,” whispered the girl.
”I don't want to go any further. I want to go home.”
”Hold my hand, Elizabeth, if you're frightened. We'll soon be there.”
”But I-”
”You want to see where I live, don't you?”
No, I do not, Elizabeth told herself. I don't want to see where you live at all.
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