Black Rabbit Summer (24 page)

‘Is someone threatening you?’

‘No one’s
threatening
me.’

‘So why won’t you talk to us?’

‘I
am
talking to you –’

‘Are you trying to protect someone?’

‘No.’

‘What about Raymond?’

‘What about him?’

‘Look, I know he’s your friend, and I know you want to look after him –’

‘That’s what friends
do
, isn’t it?’

Kesey smiled. ‘The best thing you can do for Raymond right now is tell us everything you know. If he’s got anything to do with Stella –’

‘He hasn’t.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Raymond wouldn’t hurt anyone.’

‘People do strange things, Pete. Especially if they’re –’

‘If they’re
what
?’ I said angrily. ‘There’s nothing wrong with Raymond –’

‘I didn’t say there was –’

‘He’s not fucking ab
normal
–’

‘Pete!’ Dad snapped.

I ignored him, glaring at Kesey. ‘That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? All this
concern
for me, everybody wanting to
help
me… it’s all
bollocks.
You’re just trying to get to Raymond through me.’

‘That’s not true –’

‘Yeah, it is. You’ve already made up your mind about him, haven’t you? He’s a bit of a
weirdo
, he’s gone missing at the same time as Stella, so he
must
have done something to her. That’s it, isn’t it? Simple as that.’

‘Nothing’s simple –’

‘Fucking right,’ I said.

Dad jumped out of his seat and came marching over to me then, and I knew that I’d gone too far, and that he was going to start yelling at me… but when I looked up at him, I was surprised to see that he didn’t look angry at all. He just looked really worried, and a little bit scared. And then I realized that I was crying. And I started feeling pretty frightened myself, because I’d never cried like this before. I wasn’t shaking or trembling or anything, I was just sitting there, perfectly still, and the tears were literally
pouring
down my face…

Dad decided not to go into work that night. I told him that I was OK, that he didn’t have to stay at home for my sake, but he said that he wasn’t just doing it for me, that he had a few things to talk over with Mum anyway… which might have been true, or it might not. But it wasn’t worth arguing about.

Anyway, he called the station and told them he wasn’t coming in, and he spent most of the rest of that night in the living room with Mum. I sat with them for a while, drinking tea and half-heartedly nibbling at a sandwich, then I made my excuses and went upstairs to my room.

I turned on the TV, lay down on my bed, and watched Sky News.

The only fresh information they had about Stella was that she’d been due to fly out to Barbados with her parents on the Sunday
morning to celebrate their twentieth wedding anniversary, which was why her parents had reported her missing so quickly. They’d been booked on a nine o’clock flight, and they’d been planning to leave home at six in the morning. So when Stella still hadn’t returned by five, her parents had tried calling her mobile, only to find that it was dead – no answer, no dialling tone, no voicemail, no nothing. They’d started ringing around then, calling everyone they could think of who might have known where Stella was, and after a while it became apparent that she hadn’t been seen since the early hours of the morning. And that’s when they’d called the police.

Apart from that, and the fact that several items of clothing had been found by a river in St Leonard’s, and that the police were still searching the area, the rest of the news was just a rehash of the same old stuff. There was no confirmation that the clothing was Stella’s, and no mention of any blood, so I guessed the police were keeping as much information to themselves as possible. Not that the news reporters didn’t keep
speculating
, of course. There was speculation about this, speculation about that… expert opinions, unconfirmed reports, discussions, views, theories, ideas, and lots and lots of film footage showing Stella’s home, the fairground, the recreation ground, the scene at the end of Hythe Street…

There was no mention of Raymond.

Nothing about a missing teenage boy.

And I wondered if that was another thing the police were trying to keep quiet. Or maybe, as Dad had admitted, Raymond just wasn’t
news.
But I guessed it wouldn’t be long before he was.

It was around nine o’clock when my mobile rang. I was still lying on my bed, staring at the TV, still trying to get my head round everything…

I flipped open the phone and put it to my ear. ‘Hello?’

‘Pete?’

‘Yeah.’

‘It’s Eric. Can you talk?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Is it safe to talk? I mean, your dad’s not there, is he?’

‘No, I’m on my own.’

‘Great. Listen, I just wanted to talk to you about Saturday night, you know… all this stuff about Stella? Shit… have you seen what they’re saying on the news? They reckon they’ve found some of her clothes at the river –’

‘Yeah, I know.’

‘Shit,’ he said again. ‘I just can’t believe it. I mean, I know this kind of stuff happens, but when it’s someone you know, and it happens really close to you… I mean, the
river
, for God’s sake. You can almost
see
the river from your place –’

‘I know.’

‘Yeah, yeah… of course you do.’ I heard him light a cigarette. ‘Do you think they’ve found anything else?’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know… I just thought you might have heard something. You know, from your dad…’

I didn’t say anything.

Eric cleared his throat. ‘I mean, is your dad, you know…? Has he been talking to you about it?’

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Come
on
, Pete,’ he said, slightly irritated. ‘Look, I’m
sorry
I lied to you about Saturday night, OK? But it didn’t mean anything. I was just –’

‘Yeah, I know,’ I told him. ‘Nic’s already explained everything. It’s all right, Eric. You don’t have to apologize.’

‘Yeah, well… it’s just embarrassing, that’s all. You know how it is when you get a bit drunk…’

‘Yeah.’

‘Anyway, the thing is… well, it’s just that it could make things a bit awkward for me now. I mean, the police are probably going to want to talk to us about Stella, aren’t they?’

I kept quiet, waiting for him to go on.

‘Do you think they
will
want to talk to us?’ he said.

‘Probably.’

‘Yeah, they’ll have to, won’t they? We all knew her, and we were all there… and they’ve got that film of her blanking Nic –’

‘And you used to go out with her.’

‘What?’

‘You used to go out with Stella.’

‘Yeah, but –’

‘They’ll probably want to talk to
all
her old boyfriends.’

‘Yeah, I suppose…’ He anxiously cleared his throat again. ‘That’s what I mean, though, Pete. If the police find out that I lied to you about where I was on Saturday night… well, it could make things a bit difficult for me. So, you know, I need to know…’

‘You want to know who I’ve talked to. Is that it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You think I might have told the police that you lied to me?’

‘I don’t know, do I? Look, I’m not saying you would have done it on
purpose
or anything… I mean, I don’t even know if you’ve talked to the police yet anyway.’

‘I have.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What did you tell them?’

I had to think about that. I really had to sift through all the things I’d told Dad and John Kesey about Saturday night… and all the things I
hadn’t
told them too. It was hard to remember, and for some reason it made me feel kind of detached from myself. It was like thinking about lots of different Pete Bolands. There was the Pete Boland who’d talked to Dad in the kitchen after seeing Black Rabbit’s severed head on the gate. There was the Pete Boland who’d talked
officially
to John Kesey, and the Pete Boland who’d talked to him unofficially. And there was the Pete Boland who was trying to remember it all now.

‘Pete?’ said Eric. ‘Are you still there?’

‘Yeah, hold on, I’m just thinking…’

‘What’s there to
think
about?’ he said sharply.

‘Do you want me to tell you or not?’ I snapped back at him.

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘yeah… sorry. I’m just a bit –’

‘I told them the truth, Eric. That’s all. I told them that I went round to your place after the fair, that no one was in, and that I fell asleep on the step.’

‘So they know I didn’t go home?’

‘Yeah.’

‘But not that I lied to you about it?’

‘No.’

‘Thanks, Pete,’ he sighed. ‘God… that’s a relief.’

There was so much I wanted to say to him then –
you can keep your thanks, Eric… I know you’re still lying… I notice you haven’t mentioned Raymond at all… and, by the way, have you heard from Wes Campbell recently?
– but I could hear that soundless voice again, that unknown whisper in the back of my mind, and it was telling me to keep my thoughts to myself.

And, besides, I’d just heard Dad’s footsteps coming up the stairs.

So I just said, ‘I’ve got to go now, Eric,’ and before he could reply, I quickly ended the call.

‘How are you feeling?’ Dad asked me.

‘I’m OK. Just a bit… you know…’

He looked at me, nodding his head. He was sitting across the room at my desk, and I was still sitting on my bed. He looked tired.

‘Mum’s really worried about you,’ he said. ‘She says you’ve been feeling a bit down recently, and now she’s worried that all this stress and everything might be getting too much for you.’

‘She worries too much,’ I said.

Dad smiled at me. ‘That’s what I told her. Mind you, that’s what I always tell her, and it’s hardly ever true.’ His smile faded. ‘Look, I’m not going to pretend that I know how you feel, Pete, because I don’t. But I know what something like this can do to you. I know how it can mess up your head. But if there’s anything more to it than that – and I’m not asking you to tell me what it is – but if there
is
anything else, any problems, anything that’s been troubling you… just tell me, OK? We don’t have to sort it out now, we don’t even have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but if Mum’s right, and there
is
something else worrying you, I just need to know.’

I looked at him, wondering briefly what he would say if I
did
tell him the truth –
well, actually, Dad, I think I might be going a
bit mad… I mean, I know I’m
not
going mad, but I keep doing things and seeing things and hearing things that don’t make any sense…

‘I’m all right, Dad,’ I said. ‘Honest… I’m OK.’

‘Really?’

‘Well, no… I’m not
OK.
I mean, I feel really terrible about Raymond and Stella and everything, you know… but apart from that…’

‘You’re OK?’

I shrugged. ‘Yeah…’

He nodded slowly, giving me a long hard look. It was one of those looks that you just have to sit there and take. So that’s what I did. I just sat there, holding his gaze, hoping he couldn’t see – or didn’t
want
to see – the lies in my eyes.

‘Well, all right,’ he said after a while, ‘but I think you’d better have a chat with your mum about things… try to put her mind at rest.’

‘Yeah, I will.’

He paused for a moment, gazing thoughtfully around my room, but I could tell he wasn’t really looking at anything. He was just preparing himself, thinking about what he was going to say next. I guessed it was going to be something to do with Saturday night, something to do with Raymond or Stella, but when he finally got round to focusing on me again, there was something in his eyes that told me I was only partly right.

And I was.

‘You don’t think much of John Kesey, do you?’ he said.

I stared at him, slightly taken aback, not sure what to say.

‘It’s all right,’ Dad said. ‘I’m used to people not liking John. Your mother can’t stand the sight of him.’ He smiled at me. ‘You don’t have to pretend to like him just because he’s my friend.’

I shrugged. ‘I don’t really know him well enough to like him or not.’

‘But you probably don’t like what you
do
know about him, do you?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, shrugging again. ‘I mean, I don’t really see what difference it makes.’

Dad smiled. ‘John’s a good copper, Pete. He’s a good man, and he’s been a really good friend to me over the years. I’m not saying he’s perfect or anything… I mean, he’s got his problems. Well, one problem, really. He drinks too much.’ Dad looked at me. ‘Most of the time it doesn’t stop him from doing his job, but sometimes… well, sometimes he needs a bit of help. You know, he needs looking after.’

‘Is that why Mum doesn’t like him?’

Dad nodded. ‘She doesn’t think he’s worth it. She thinks I’m putting my job at risk.’

Neither of us said anything for a while then. Dad just sat there, deep in thought, and I stared blankly at the flickering light of the mute TV. The sun had gone down now, and the sky outside was fading from twilight to dark. The room was dim. The TV was bright. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. The faces, the people, the colours, the shapes…

It was all meaningless.

‘Listen, Pete,’ Dad said, ‘the reason I’m telling you all this –’

‘You don’t have to explain, Dad.’

‘Yes, I do.’

I looked at him. His face glowed eerily in the TV light, and just for a moment – a strange little moment – he was suddenly someone else, someone I’d never seen before. He was still my dad, but I didn’t seem to
know
him any more. It was kind of scary for a second or two, but as I rubbed my eyes and stared at
him, the light from the TV shimmered and brightened and the non-Dad instantly morphed back into Dad again.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked me. ‘Are you all right?’

I nodded.