Dead Time (29 page)

‘What's the matter?' she said when Joshua didn't reply.

‘I know him.'

‘Who?'

‘Him, in that house.'

She looked at Skeggsie as if he had some answer.

‘You know
him
? The technician from my school?'

‘He was a friend of my dad's. He was a policeman who worked with my dad. His name was Frank. I know him.'

Rose sat very still, stupefied. Skeggsie caught her eye, holding it for a moment. Then she looked across at the house and saw the curtain at the bay window pulled back. There was a face there watching them. This time it didn't duck away.

It was Frank Palmer.

Frank Palmer was a friend of Brendan Johnson.

The car was getting hot and Skeggsie opened the windows. Cool air came in but so did the noise of the passing traffic.

‘Yes,' Joshua said, leaning forward, more in control of himself. ‘He used to come round when we lived in Brewster Road. I saw him a load of times and I saw Dad out with him as well. I know it was him. His name was Frank. I don't remember his surname. I don't think I ever heard it.'

‘He was a policeman?'

Joshua nodded.

‘Why's he working as an IT technician at a school?'

‘I don't know.'

Rose looked across at the house. The face at the window had gone.

‘How come he didn't say something? When you rang his bell. How come he didn't recognise you?'

‘It's been five or more years. I've grown up. He hasn't changed, though. He looks just the same.'

‘Don't you think it's significant,' Skeggsie said, ‘that he lives there and your parents came to this B and B?'

‘What's that got to do with anything?' Rose said sharply, the mention of the B and B, yet again, irritating her.

‘If they were arranging their own disappearance and they had a friend who knew where there was somewhere safe that they could stay …'

‘He might know something about Dad and Kathy?' Joshua said.

‘Maybe …'

‘Shush! Look!' Rose hissed.

The green front door opened and Frank Palmer came out of the house. He was in his shirt sleeves, holding some keys in one hand. He closed the front door behind him and walked towards them.

‘He's coming over here,' Skeggsie said.

Frank Palmer walked briskly, glancing sideways at the traffic as he crossed the road. When he got to the Mini he bent over.

‘Hi,' he said, leaning into the car. ‘Joshua and Rose. And friend. How about you two come across to my flat so that we can talk about a few things.'

‘Who are you?' Joshua said.

‘You know who I am, Joshua. You remembered me.'

‘But you work at my school. You gave a false name …' Rose said.

‘Come over to my house. There's a lot to talk about.'

Nobody moved. Frank Palmer leant down to the window again.

‘Your dad and your mum would want you to talk to me.'

He turned and walked away. There was an electric silence.

‘
What
did he say?'

‘He said that Mum and Brendan …'

‘He
knows
something. Skeggsie is right. This is not just a coincidence. Don't you see, Rosie? Dad and Kathy came here, to the B and B. Across the road from Dad's old friend. I'm going over there …'

‘But he might have
killed
a boy from my school!'

‘Skeggsie, open the door. Let me get out. I've got to talk to this guy.'

Skeggsie opened the door and got out, flipping his seat forward as he did.

‘Come on. We have got to find out what he knows.'

‘He might be a murderer …'

‘Skeggsie, if we're not back in fifteen minutes ring the police. Just make up some story to get them here. Now, Rosie. Let's go.'

She got out of the car.

‘I'll wait for fifteen minutes,' Skeggsie said.

Joshua took Rosie's hand and led her across the road.

They walked towards the green door. Frank Palmer was standing waiting, holding the door open for them to walk inside. When they got closer Rose examined him, her eyes travelling over his face, down his chest, along the arm that was holding the door open.

Her breath caught in her throat as she focused on Frank Palmer's wrist. His shirt had fallen back and she could see the tattoo there as vivid as the real thing.

A butterfly.

The three of them stood in a room with kitchen units. There was a small table by a wall with a single chair by it. Round the back of the chair was the leather biker jacket that Rose had seen Frank Palmer wearing. There was nothing on the work surfaces; no toaster, no kettle, no breadbin, plates or cups. The room felt cold and had no smell at all, as if nothing had ever been cooked there. On the floor was a small black suitcase and on the work surface was the red holdall that Rose had seen Frank Palmer carrying a couple of times. The black and white chequered flag looked a little worn close up, the fabric peeling at the corners.

Joshua was asking question after question. Frank Palmer wasn't giving any answers. Rose looked at some things on the work surface. There were folders, papers and a book; a wallet, a glasses case, a camera and a toiletries
bag. They were in neat piles as if waiting to be packed in some methodical order. Rose looked curiously at the book. It was an old hardback. On it was the title
The Butterfly Project
and illustrations of several well-known butterflies overlapping each other.

‘Are you going to say
anything
?' Joshua said, irate now.

‘Who
are
you?' Rose said.

‘Do you know where my dad is?' Joshua said.

Rose looked sharply at him.
My dad
? What about her mum?

Frank sighed.

‘One thing at a time,' he said, ‘I can't tell you much and I shouldn't be telling you this. But your dad and your mum are all right. I've not seen them myself for a while but I know, from speaking to other people, that they are all right.'

‘They're alive?' Rose said. ‘But why haven't they contacted us?'

‘Where are they?' Joshua said.

‘There are things I can't tell you. Things I don't know.'

‘Where have they been for five years?' Rose said, her mind whirling.

‘I can't tell you.'

Joshua stepped forward. ‘You can't tell us that our parents are all right and tell us nothing else!'

Frank closed his eyes as if he was trying very hard to control himself. Joshua stared at him, fired up. Frank finally managed a shaky smile.

‘Joshua, don't get upset, lad. I can only tell you that your dad is well. And, Rose, your mum is well. But I can't tell you any more than that.'

‘Why not? What are they doing?' Joshua banged the table in frustration. Are they imprisoned somewhere?'

‘No, no …'

‘Are they working undercover? Is it a police thing?'

‘No …'

‘Government? National security?'

‘No. That I cannot talk about. I will tell you one thing. They think about you a lot. I know that for a fact. An absolute fact.'

There was silence. Joshua was puffed up, moving from one foot to another. Rose was leaning against the work surface, her fingers touching the corner of the red holdall.

They think about you a lot
.

Her mum and Brendan were alive; flesh and blood, walking, talking, breathing, laughing, crying. Rose was full of confusion.

‘Are they in this country?' Joshua said.

Frank shook his head.

‘In Europe? Warsaw?'

‘I don't know.'

‘I don't believe you!' Joshua said, furious now. ‘You're making this up. You don't know where Dad and Kathy are – this is just a lie!'

‘It's true.'

‘You haven't a clue what happened to them. You've made up this story for some weird reason of your own.'

Rose frowned. ‘Josh said you're Brendan's friend but I don't remember seeing you. I know you worked at my school. The police think you know what happened to Ricky Harris …'

‘Wait a minute. I do remember something about you,' Joshua said, cutting across her. ‘Didn't you get kicked out of the force? I remember Dad talking about it.
Poor Frank got sacked for doing his job. Poor Frank.
That's what he said.'

Frank stiffened. ‘I did lose my job.'

‘So now you're working as an IT technician in a school and nicking stuff from there. You've got
no idea
what happened to them. You're just living some kind of fantasy.'

‘I'm not nicking stuff from anywhere. My job in the school was a cover,' Frank said.

‘A cover? For what? What about Ricky Harris?' Rose said. ‘What do you know about him and the way he died? Did you kill him?'

‘I'm not allowed to …'

‘You're not denying it? You mean you
did
kill him?' Rose's voice was loud. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

‘Rose, don't waste time. This is not what we should be talking about. It's Dad and Kathy …'

‘He killed someone, Josh,' she said, interrupting him.

‘I don't believe that either. I think he's making this all up,' Joshua said, walking past him. ‘Come on, let's get out of here.'

‘I did not make it up. I'm not lying.' Frank Palmer moved to block Joshua's way out.

‘Did you kill Ricky Harris?' Rose demanded.

‘I did.'

Rose felt limp. The station walkway came back into her head; the flickering light and the black sky; the smell of autumn, of fireworks and damp leaves; a boy's blood on the ground.

‘But he can't tell us anything about Dad and Kathy. He doesn't know anything. He's making all this up. Don't believe him, Rose.'

‘I am not lying!' Frank said, his face taut, his lips stretched across his teeth.

‘Tell us something, then. Tell us one thing that might make us believe you!' Joshua shouted.

‘All right, all right. I killed the boy because I was protecting you, Rose. That's what I do. I look after you. I keep my eye on what's happening to you. I don't know where Kathy and Brendan are
now
but five years ago they told me it was my job to make sure you were safe.'

‘Oh my –' Rose said weakly. ‘You killed Ricky Harris because of me?'

Joshua made a dismissive sound and turned away.

‘What happened to that boy, on that footbridge, was part of my role in protecting you, Rose.'

‘How can you …'

‘Wait. You need to understand what I've been doing. Best to say that I've been around you when changes came into your life. When you went to the Norfolk school, I was there, for a while, to make sure you were OK and that there was no sign of anyone watching you or taking any undue notice of you. I'm not there every day, I'm not following you. But when there are changes to the routine, I'm there, for a while. So I worked in the school to watch you. To make sure no one else is watching you.'

‘But
who
would be watching
me
?'

Frank shook his head. ‘I cannot tell you any more.'

Joshua was at the work surface where Frank's things were waiting to be packed. Rose could see him looking at the items there. He picked up the book that she'd already seen,
The Butterfly Project.
He frowned, turning it over, looking at the back.

‘I'm not allowed to explain. I just want you to know that your mother's main priority was making sure that you are safe.'

‘What about me? Am I not supposed to be safe as well?' Joshua said, tossing the hardback book back on the work surface.

‘That's for someone else. My role was to look after Rose and when that young man began to harass and bully her
then I stepped in. I told him in school to leave her alone. I was more vigilant about her. That particular unfortunate night I followed her to the station and saw her go down on to the platform. My plan was to just see her get on to the train but then I saw him, the boy from school, and I saw him bother her, following her up and down. I was about to go down on to the platform and have it out with him but he came back up the stairs …'

‘You killed him because he was harassing me? How could you? What sort of person are you?' Rose said, her throat caked and dry.

‘It was never my intention to kill him. I spoke to him. I told him that if he didn't change his attitude to you, then I would see that he was suspended from school.'

No one spoke.

‘He pulled a knife out. I wasn't expecting it. The stupid boy was going to use it. He didn't know who he was dealing with, though. I had no choice. It was a terrible thing but I did it in the course of my job, doing what Kathy wanted me to do.'

Rose felt herself on the brink of tears. Ricky Harris had been killed because of her. Not by Lewis or Sherry or by some crook who wanted IT equipment.

‘He brought it on himself, Rose. It is in the past.'

A bell rang. Twice, three times. The noise split the air and Frank looked alert.

‘Who have you told that you are here?' he said.

He opened the kitchen door as the bell kept ringing. He walked out into the hallway and went into the room at the front of the house. Rose thought that he was probably looking out of the bay window. When he came into the hallway seconds later he looked different, businesslike.

‘It's the police,' he said. ‘Who called them? Your friend?

Rose and Joshua looked at each other.

Skeggsie had done as he was told.

Frank opened the front door.

Rose and Joshua stayed in the kitchen. Rose's heart was racing.

‘We could tell the police,' she said. ‘They could arrest him for Ricky Harris's murder.'

‘No, it's too soon,' Joshua whispered. ‘There's more stuff we need to ask him.'