How I Found You (6 page)

As I changed back into my own clothes, I allowed myself to briefly indulge in thoughts that I had so desperately been trying to suppress. Something that, there and then, I promised myself I would allow only once, and then block from my mind forever.

I thought of Oscar.

Or, more importantly, I wondered what Oscar would think of the dress. Silly, I know. But I couldn’t help it.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and noticed that I was smiling. Not a smile I’d ever seen before, either. A dopey smile.

Oscar made me smile.

Oh, no.

I stopped that insanity at once.             

Oscar is a conniving fraud
, I reminded myself.
Oscar
is up to something devious and will probably trample you in the process. He is a volatile con artist and you cannot trust him. Ever.  

Much to my dismay, I felt a painful tug in my heart.

Traitorous heart.  

I tucked my jacket under my arm and bundled the dresses together. Outside the fitting room, a shop assistant was waiting to take the unwanted items—which, incidentally, there were many of.

Mary scooped up the one successful candidate and toddled off to the cashier’s desk. “We’re going to take this one,” she told the brunette woman at the cash register.

I rushed to catch up with her. “Mary, I don’t know about this,” I babbled. “I’m not sure if I can pull off a dress like that.”

“What are you talking about?” Mary laughed in delight. “It was perfect.”

The overly made-up cashier held the dress between her manicured fingernails. “Are you taking this?”

“Yes,” Mary answered firmly.

From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed the price tag.

My jaw dropped.

“Have you seen the price?” I exclaimed. “It’s daylight robbery!” 

Mary shushed me.

“Do you know how much it is?” I spluttered in an adequately hushed voice.

“Yes, I know,” Mary whispered. “Everything in this store is around that price mark. Don’t you worry about the cost.”  

I leaned against the counter in shock as the cashier rang up the bill.

“Thanks, Aunt Mary,” I said meekly.

“My pleasure,” she replied, beaming.

The cashier placed the dress into a little pink bag and sprinkled some scented beads over the top. She handed the bag to me and told us to have a nice day.

Manoeuvring Zack’s pushchair through the store, Mary led the way back out onto the high street.

“We were lucky to find your dress in the first shop we went into,” she said to me.

“Yeah. Now we can go look for something for you.”

Mary smiled broadly. “Oh Rose, you don’t want to be dragged around to all of my shops. Here’s an idea…”

Uh oh. Alarm bells went off in my head.

Mary went on, “I think there’s a youth club about halfway down Birch Street.”

Youth club
? I winced.

“Why don’t you pop down there and have a look around? It’ll be good for you to meet some people your own age.”

No
, I wailed silently. I couldn’t believe she was sending me off on a friend hunt.
Not without a fight…

“I don’t mind staying with you,” I began my counter-argument. “I can help you do your shopping—”

“Rose,” Mary cut me off, “it’s a long summer in Millwood without any company.”

“I’ve got company,” I disputed. “I’ve got you, Uncle Roger and Zack.”

“I meant company your own
age.”

“Caicus and Oscar are company my own age,” I pointed out.

“I meant company you actually
like
. A girl, perhaps. You can show her your new dress.”

My jaw dropped.

Mary ruffled my hair. “Meet back at the car in, say,” she glanced at her watch, “an hour?” She peeked into the pushchair. “Zackie, say goodbye to Rosie,” she cooed to her son.

I scoffed. “If Zack could talk, he would never let this happen. Go on, Zack,” I said to the plump face nestled in the pushchair, “tell her.”

Zack gurgled and drooled a little.

“My thoughts exactly,” I told him.

Mary chortled. “Have fun!” she said cheerfully before trundling off down the street.

Wearily I set off in the opposite direction from my aunt. Of course, I had no intention of going to the youth club—I was a non-mover on that. Instead, I ducked onto a side street, which, I quickly found out, sloped down to a huge old church. The building was clearly no longer in use, but it was in good condition all the same. It was typically ostentatious, with elaborate arched doors, stained glass windows, and sculpted gargoyles jutting out from the stone walls. Surrounding the church was a neglected graveyard, and behind that was the beginning of a woodland.

I wandered into the graveyard. The yellowed grass was hugely overgrown and some of the gravestones had been upturned—I was guessing as a result of storm damage. There was a vague path leading out to the wood, so I followed the trail, venturing into the trees.

At least fifteen minutes passed before I even considered stopping, and by then I was deep inside the woodland. It was strangely comforting to be so immersed in nature. I was completely alone, apart from a solo squirrel who scuffled around amongst the undergrowth.

I kept walking, leaving my squirrel friend behind.

When I finally stopped, it was more out of necessity than choice. The trees parted and I found myself on the top of a projection.

I peered over the edge. The woodland below was easily a one-hundred-foot drop.

I had some time to kill, so I sat on the edge of the projection, looking down over the world below. It was a spectacular view, treetops as far as the eye could see. Placing my shopping bag beside me, I lay my jacket down over the grass and reclined back onto it. I closed my eyes and listened to the birdsong. A light wind dusted over my bare arms and swept a few strands of hair over my face.

But just when I felt myself drifting into a blissful state of relaxation, a stomach-churning image flashed through my subconscious. The vision of a decomposing skull teeming with maggots. The decayed face was long dead, but its menacing black eyes were very much alive. And they were staring right at me.

I gasped and sat bolt upright.

All of a sudden, the woodland didn’t seem so peaceful anymore. In fact, it felt utterly sinister. Even the sky had taken a dark turn; it was now congested with bulging grey rain clouds.

I sprang to my feet, searching for the path back to town. But there was no path, and every direction looked the same.

My heart began to race. As I stood alone in the clearing, I was overcome by the sinking feeling that I was being watched.

And I knew that I was right.

The Impossible

BLINDLY I STUMBLED THROUGH THE
dense woodland. I tried to calm myself, but my heart was pounding.

The first heavy drops of rain plummeted from the sky and splashed onto my arms, and the deeper I walked into the woodland, the more unfamiliar things became. Perhaps it was the fear of being lost, or perhaps it was a gut instinct, but I was scared. Really scared.

To make things worse, I was plagued by that instinctual feeling that eyes were upon me. Threatening eyes. Crow-like eyes, which had previously only manifested through my nightmares, but that now appeared to be taking up roots in reality, too. I could feel them burning a hole in the back of my head.

As the rain pattered down, indistinct sounds echoed throughout the woodland. Drops landed like footsteps all around me. I glanced over my shoulder, but could see nothing except the slight movement of leaves. Each new sound sent a fresh wave of panic coursing through my veins.

I broke into a run. I scrambled through the trees, heading in whichever direction fate took me. Although I probably should have been looking where fate was taking me, because without warning, my foot slipped out from underneath me.

I had tripped over a fallen branch and was tumbling face first onto the muddy ground.

I braced myself for the impact.

But before I hit the forest floor, a strong hand grabbed my arm and effortlessly propped me back upright.

It took me a few seconds to register that there were vice-like fingers clasped around my elbow.

A scream caught in my throat.

I jerked my arm free and stumbled backwards.

“Careful!” said a light-hearted voice.

Oscar.

“What are you doing here?” I cried. My voice was quite a few octaves higher than usual.

Oscar shook the raindrops from his dark hair. “I helped you,” he said with a shrug.

“What are you doing here?” I choked again.

“Helping.”

“What-are-you-doing-here?” I drew out the words breathlessly. “Why are you in Hutton Ridge? In the woods?”

“Oh,” Oscar hesitated, mulling over his impending response. “I’m…walking. I’m taking a walk. Nice day for it.” He smirked as a raindrop dribbled over the bridge of his nose.

“You’re taking a walk?” I stammered. “Here?”

“Yes. This is where I come for my…” he trailed off, almost as though he’d lost his train of thought. Or simply lost interest in the sentence.

“Walks?” I finished for him.

“Yes, my walks.”

“In Hutton Ridge?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

“How did you get here?” I demanded. “I thought your car was broken.” For a moment I thought I’d done it. Caught him in a lie. Put him in checkmate, so to speak.

But Oscar was distinctly unruffled. “I walked. I walk.”

“All the way here? It’s a half-hour car journey. It would have taken you
hours
to walk.”

“Okay then, I ran.”

My mind whirled with questions. Could he really have run there? And how could he possibly have known where to find me? Surely this couldn’t be a coincidence?

“You’re lying,” I accused.

Oscar pushed back wet strands of hair from his brow. “No, I’m not.”

I narrowed my eyes.

Oscar’s gaze began to flicker between me and the trees. He cleared his throat. “Shall we go?” he said at last. He extended his hand to me, but I didn’t take it.

Instead I folded my arms. “Go?” I echoed. “With you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, you’d rather stay out here on your own?”

We both looked up to the towering treetops and grey rainclouds skulking through the sky.

Great
, I thought sourly. I was torn. I didn’t want to go with him, but I didn’t want to stay out there alone, either.

“Just point me in the right direction,” I said with a grimace.

Oscar laughed.

I frowned at him. “Fine then, don’t. I’ll find my own way back.”

“Oh right! Because that’s worked out well for you so far,” he drawled.

In fairness, he was right—I had had absolutely no idea where I was going. But I didn’t want Oscar to know that. Oh, he’d have lapped that up. 

I marched into the thick of trees.

I could hear him muttering irritably to himself as he strode to catch up with me.

“Not that way,” he shouted.

I hesitated and glanced back at him. “I don’t need your help,” I scoffed. “I don’t even know you!”

For a split second he actually looked hurt. But it might as well have been a mirage, because in the next instant his expression was stony.

“Suit yourself,” he said coolly. “I don’t know why I bothered anyway. Die out here for all I care.”

Our eyes met through the misted rain. 

I sighed. Okay, I
did
need his help, but I really didn’t want to admit that.

“Would you just…” Oscar raked his hands through his damp hair, “just trust me?” He shifted his weight restlessly from one foot to the next. “Just for today?”

I wiped the rainwater from my eyes. “How can I trust you? All you do is lie to me.”

He stopped fidgeting and fixed his russet gaze on me. When he answered, he spoke slowly, earnestly. “It’s not safe for you to be out here by yourself. That’s the truth.”

Without waiting for a response, Oscar took hold of my wrist and guided me into the trees. His grasp was light and yet unmovable at the same time.

I dug my heels into the mud. “Let go!”

Oscar stopped walking. “If I let you go, will you promise to walk with me?”

Go willingly? I knew I had to make that judgement there and then. “Do you promise that you’re not taking me off to,” I lowered my voice, “kill me?”

Oscar chuckled in amusement. “Oh, you’ve caught me,” he teased. “Listen, if I was going to kill you, girl, don’t you think I would have done it by now? I mean, it’s raining.”

Good point. Not a practical time to linger.

“Come on,” Oscar urged. “Let’s just go, eh?” 

“I—” 

“That’s the spirit,” he cheered. “Now, I’m going to let go of your wrist and you’re going to be a good girl and follow me.” He cautiously released his iron clasp and took a few watchful steps forward.

As it turned out, my legs moved faster than my brain, because sure enough, I followed him. But I wasn’t entirely happy about it. In fact, I seriously doubted that we were even heading in the right direction.

“This is the wrong way,” I told him, adamantly.

“No, it isn’t.”

I snorted. “Admit it, you’re lost.”

Oscar laughed loudly. “I’m never lost. This is the way.” He cast me a sideways glance. “I am certain.”

“How?” I shot back. “Every direction looks the same.” I waved my hand at the tall pines surrounding us.

“Not to me.” Oscar tapped his temple with his index finger. “Intuitive,” he said, with a sanctimonious smirk.

“Give me a break.”

“Or perhaps I’ve laid out a trail of breadcrumbs,” he joked. “One hundred and fifty invisible breadcrumbs.” 

The rain fell more heavily now, drenching our clothes and hair. I must have shivered, because Oscar shrugged out of his black jacket and tossed it to me.

I caught it. It was heavy and felt warm and dry on the inside. Even at arm’s length, I could smell Oscar on the material.

“I told you to bring a coat,” he reproached.

All of a sudden, my stomach lurched. “My jacket,” I groaned. “And my dress. I left them on the ridge!”

“You’re not going back for them,” my surly companion rebuffed before the idea was even suggested.

“I have to!” I thrust his jacket back into his hands. “Mary bought me that dress today. I can’t just leave it in the woods.”

Oscar’s eyebrows drew together. “You’re going to have to,” he snapped. He made a half-hearted attempt to shelter us both with his jacket, lifting it above our heads like an umbrella.

Without thinking, I turned and ran away from him, retracing my steps back to the ridge.

“Hey!” Oscar yelled. “Where do you think you’re going!” I heard the crunch of the undergrowth as he jogged after me. “If you go back to the ridge,” he shouted, “don’t expect me to follow you!”

I broke into a sprint.

“I mean it!” Oscar bellowed.

But I kept running. I ran as fast as I could over bracken and debris until I burst through the trees and emerged into the clearing. The first thing I saw was my tan jacket, crumpled on the grass, soaked and muddy. To my dismay, I saw no sign of the pink shopping bag.

“Oh no!” I panted. “Where is it?” I lifted my jacket from the grass and scanned the glade.

Oscar stood some distance away, scowling, his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He leaned against a tree trunk, watching the rain form pools on the ground. 

Where was it? I’d definitely had it when I reached the ridge. An awful thought dawned on me. I stepped closer to the verge and peered over the edge. My heart sank. “It’s fallen over the edge,” I cried. “I can see the bag at the foot of the cliff!”

Oscar broke into a grin.

I glowered at him. “It’s not funny.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No!” I wailed. “I’ll never be able to get that bag. It’s too far down.”

“Oh well.”

“What am I going to do?” I realised that I was appealing to Oscar in utter despair, as though somehow he would be able to give me an answer.

Oscar exhaled loudly. “I’m getting soaked,” he grumbled.

“It’s gone,” I said quietly, turning to face him.

Oscar opened his mouth and began catching raindrops on his tongue. “So, we’re done here?” he asked.

I felt sick. How could I have been so careless?

Oscar frowned at my expression. “Get over it. It’s just a dress.”

“It was expensive. It meant so much to Mary, and I just…”
Uh oh
. My voice caught in my throat. I quickly pressed my fingers to my eyelids. 

Oscar marched across the glade and stood before me. He pulled my hands away from my eyes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” he exclaimed. “You’re not crying, are you?”

“No—” my voice cracked.
Abort sentence!

“Come on, crying?
Crying?
I didn’t sign up for this!” He clumsily patted me on the back. “There, there,” he said stiffly.

I pursed my lips and wiped away a tear from the corner of my eye. “I can’t help it,” I mumbled. “I have overactive tear ducts.”              

He threw me a dubious look.

“It’s a thing,” I insisted.

“Look, let’s cut to the chase, crybaby,” Oscar moved on. “I’m no good with waterworks.” He pressed his palms together. “What’s the protocol here? You feed me the lines and I’ll say them. Don’t make me work for this.”

“There’s nothing you can say,” I sighed softly. “The dress is gone and there’s no way I can get it back. We might as well go.”

Oscar gave me an approving smile. “Yes. Good.”

We began walking back into the woodland. I kept my head bowed, in my own private funeral march. I sniffled a little bit.

“Are you still crying?” Oscar asked, unable to disguise the exasperation in his tone.

“I’m upset.”

He kicked the ground. “This is annoying.”

I glared at him. “If I’m so annoying, then maybe you should do us both a favour and leave me alone.”

“No, I didn’t mean that
you’re
annoying,” he rectified hastily, holding up his hands in submission. “I meant the
situation
. The thing is, there is one way that I can help you. But I really shouldn’t do it.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

His nose twitched. “There is a way to get the dress back,” he confessed, “but only in an extreme emergency. I
really
shouldn’t do it.”