What You Left Behind (21 page)

Then I just hear bits about a girl called Grace and an athletics camp and then they’re talking about next week and the man says,
Let’s talk to Gil then, if you like. We’ll keep it secret for now
.

I’m good at keeping secrets.

18

When Freddie woke on Thursday morning, he had no idea where he was. Had he drunk too much the night before? But then he remembered and his heart began to quicken as he sank farther down inside the sleeping bag.

Last night it had seemed like a good idea to come here when the only other option had been sleeping under a hedge. He’d been certain that Frank wasn’t on duty—the shift manager’s timetable had been pinned to the wall when he’d called by to see Lana—and of course he knew that Sonia and Lana were at home entertaining. None of the other volunteers had any idea who he was, and as for the people who stayed here, it was only Lenny who’d known him. And he was dead.

The other cocooned bodies were waking and shuffling from their
bunks. The smell of bacon and toast tantalized Freddie—he hadn’t eaten for ages. But the tang of cigarette smoke from the open doorway where some of the stay-overs were standing, inhaling their first puff of the day, made him feel nauseous.

He pulled the sleeping bag over his face, wondering if everyone was out looking for him. He thought of his mum. She’d be desperately worried. How long would it be before anyone searched here at New Hope? He needed to get up and out, in case Frank or Sonia arrived. But where could he go?

“Come and get it!” Freddie heard a voice yell out of the kitchen hatch. “Breakfast’s ready!”

Shit
.

He couldn’t sink any deeper inside the sleeping bag. He’d just have to wait, hide inside the bedding until Lana left; then he could sneak away quietly.

“Come on, you lot. Anyone would think you didn’t want it.” Lana was rounding everyone up.

A few minutes later, Freddie peeked out of his bag. It seemed he was the only one still in bed. Everyone else was perched on their beds with a plate on their knees, shoving piles of toast and eggs and bacon into their mouths. The youth on the next bunk caught his eye, pulled his plate closer to his mouth, and gave him a friendly nod as he chewed.

“I’ll go over and see who it is.” Lana’s voice rang out from the kitchen, causing Freddie to dive back inside his bag.

He heard her approaching, humming her favorite song. A moment later there was a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him.

“Morning,” she said, patting him on the back. “It’ll be time to leave for the day soon. Don’t you want any breakfast?”

A pause.

“Are you awake?”

Freddie stirred, pretending to be asleep. “Leave me alone,” he grunted in a low voice.

He’d wait for her to go back in the kitchen, then grab his stuff and run for it. He could get dressed properly down the road.

But Lana gave his shoulder another shake. “How about some egg and bacon?” she said kindly. “There’s still some left.”

Freddie curled himself into a ball. “I’ll get up in a bit,” he growled. “Just leave me, right?”

“Up now, please, or we won’t be able to guarantee you a bed later,” she said, more sternly this time. “Don’t you know the rules?”

Freddie had no idea about the rules. Since that text last night, any rules he’d ever lived by had been blown apart.

“Are you new here?” she persisted. “There’s tea and coffee too. You don’t have to eat.”

Knowing now that Lana was not going to go away, Freddie turned over and blinked up at her, praying he could trust her.

“Oh my God, Freddie!” she said.

“Shhh,” he hissed back. “For fuck’s sake, shut up.”

“What the hell are you doing here? Everyone’s out looking for you.”

“Just go away, will you?” he whispered back. “Pretend you didn’t see me, right? I’m serious, Lana.”

She knelt down beside him, their faces close, her voice quieter now. “Freddie, what on earth is the matter? Is it to do with the computer? Did you find the pictures? I’m not going until you tell me.”

“I can’t tell you. I just had to get away from home, that’s all, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Everyone was expecting you at my house last night for the barbecue. When you didn’t come, your mum got really worried. We all did.”

Lana’s cheeks colored briefly, and Freddie knew that he should take this as a good sign, that she’d wanted to spend time with him last night. He tried not to think about it. They’d never have the chance now. His life here was over.

“I hitched a lift here and some old boy took pity on me and gave me a bed.”

“That’ll be Derek,” Lana replied, glancing over her shoulder. “He does Wednesday nights. Has something happened between you and your mum?” She grabbed his hand. “Just tell me. Were there any pictures on the computer?”

Freddie’s head dropped down onto the pillow. What was he supposed to say? That a crazy psycho killer had anonymously texted him from a number he didn’t recognize; that he’d witnessed Lenny being beaten to death, he now realized; and that he was on the run because the killer was after him too?

“It’s complicated, Lana,” Freddie mumbled, wishing he could confide in her, do anything to release some of the pressure in his chest.

“So you did find something then,” she said defiantly. “I can help, Freddie, if you’ll only let me.”

Freddie lifted his head and glanced furtively around. No one was paying him any attention. “Lana, if you want to help, then get me out of here without being spotted.” He looked at his watch. “Is your mum working here today? Or Frank?” If they saw him, they’d tell his mum for sure.

It hurt deeply to know that he’d never see any of his family again.

“I’m covering Mum’s shift this morning because, ironically, she wanted to help search for you.” Lana gave Freddie a dig in the ribs with her fist. She was angry at him. “Just tell me what’s going on, will you?”

Freddie sighed. He couldn’t possibly tell her about Lenny. Not after the threat. Her life would be in danger too.

He pulled her closer, enjoying her sweet scent. He’d probably never see her again either.

“Some kids are giving me shit, that’s all. I need to lie low for a while.”

Lana’s face crumpled into a sympathetic look.

“And I don’t mean just a bit of banter. I mean sustained, soul-destroying
harassment. It’s been going on for months, online and while we were at school. I never get any peace. They’re on my back day and night. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know. Probably because I’m the loser they tell me I am. They won’t be happy until I’m dead.”

Freddie looked down, not wanting her to see the tears welling in his eyes.

“Oh, Freddie.” Her hand reached into the folds of the sleeping bag and sought out his fingers. “Have you told anyone else?”

He shook his head. “No point. It would just make it worse.” He looked around the hall. People were packing up their belongings. “Just help me get out, right?”

“But—”

Freddie dived down into his sleeping bag.

“Freddie? What is it?”

“Frank’s just arrived,” came the muffled reply.

“He might be able to help you,” Lana offered.

“
No one
must know I’m here,” he said as clearly as he could without raising his voice. He was shaking.

“But Derek will have logged you in the book last night.”

“I used a fake name.”

“Freddie, I—”

“Just shut up, right? I need to leave. It was a mistake to come here.”

“OK, OK, I’ll help,” Lana replied, squeezing his fingers.

For a moment Freddie felt soothed, as if none of this was happening, as if this was the beginning of the connection between them that he’d dreamed of.

“But where are you going to go? What will you do?”

There was genuine concern in Lana’s voice.

Freddie hadn’t thought this through. He didn’t even know which way to turn when he left New Hope. Up the hill or down the hill? Left or right?

“I think you should go back home,” Lana said. “I’ll help you work everything out, I promise. We’ll sort out this computer mess once and for all and get help about the idiots who are bullying you.”

Freddie was tempted, so tempted, to take her advice, to crawl out of his sleeping bag, stretch back into his life, allow her to work through things with him. But how could he? He couldn’t go to the police about what had happened in the woods—he was as guilty as the bastard who killed Lenny—and he couldn’t stick around and wait for the murderer to catch up with him. He felt more desperate than ever.

I know who you are and what you saw. You’re dead next
.

The text had burned through his fitful sleep. He couldn’t tell Lana.

“I can’t go back,” he stated.

“Look, why don’t you say you went to a mate’s for the night, had a few beers, and your phone battery was dead. Your mum will just be relieved to see you, Freddie. She’s been really worried about you.”

“You don’t understand. Please, Lana, cover me while I leave.”

She dropped her head. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, Freddie. This is all about the laptop and my paranoia, isn’t it? It’s my fault you’re in this mess. And now Lenny’s dead and everyone’s worried the suicides are happening again and …”

For a moment, Freddie couldn’t believe what he was hearing or work out where it was coming from. “Fuck,” he whispered, squirming out of the sleeping bag, throwing on his top, and pulling up the hood.

Lana lifted her head. “Freddie?”

“That noise,” he said, sitting on the floor and pulling on his trousers. “Where’s it coming from?”

“That ringtone?” Lana said, looking around. “Er … sounds like Frank’s phone. Yes, it is—look, he’s just answered it.”

“You certain?” Freddie asked, shoving a couple of things into his bag, making sure the laptop was still inside. He fumbled with his sneakers, not bothering to lace them. “You’re sure it was Frank’s phone that just rang?”

“Yes,” Lana said, almost laughing. “What’s so awful about that?”

Freddie could barely speak. It was, note for note, exactly the same as the ringtone he’d heard in the woods. The killer’s phone. He’d had nightmares about it ever since watching Lenny get beaten up.

Ever since watching
Frank
kill Lenny.

Freddie grabbed his bag. “Cover me while I get to the door,” he ordered.

“Freddie, no, wait. This is madness.”

Before he could protest or stop her, Lana was striding off to the kitchen, where Frank was on the phone. Freddie, realizing he was in full view of the kitchen hatch, ducked down behind his bunk, pretending to search for something in his bag. A moment later, she returned.

“Here’s the cable for my dad’s computer,” she said hopefully. “It’s been in the kitchen since poor Lenny snatched it.” Her imploring eyes said it all:
please prove me wrong
.

Freddie stuffed it in his bag. “Thanks,” he said.

She went back to the kitchen and stood by the hatch so no one could see him as he crossed to the door. Then she made her way over to the porch, where Freddie leaned forward and gave her a kiss. Her skin felt even softer than it looked.

“Thank you again,” he said.

“I got this for you,” she said, handing him a foil-wrapped packet. “To keep you going.” There were tears in her eyes. “Call me later, right?”

Freddie nodded, knowing he couldn’t promise anything. He had to get away from Frank. Once he’d found somewhere safe he would think what to do next. He offered a quick wave as he stepped out into the sunlight.

It was only after he’d left the building, as he was walking down the street, drifting into the long expanse of day with some of the other homeless people, that he realized that Lana, the only true friend he’d ever had, would soon be all alone with a murderer.

19

Most of the homeless had left for the day; just one or two stragglers remained. Frank was whistling a tuneless song while hanging up the last of the pans above the stove following the breakfast wash-up.

“Do you like going to those music festival things?” Frank asked Lana, who was wiping down the surfaces. “My Tammy’s got a spare ticket for Reading. She was wondering if you’d like it. There’s a group of them going.”