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‘Fine, but you brought it up. You mentioned Devril and Niko, so clearly you think the boy in my car and the crash are somehow connected to the past. To my past. What is it?’
‘We are following up all the lines of inquiry. As DI Harper says, there is only a possibility that there might be a connection. It may well be, and this does happen as I’m sure you are aware, that we get some more witnesses come forward. Meanwhile, we will be doing everything we can to find out what happened last night,’ DS Marriot said smoothly. She smiled at Holly.
‘Yeah, I’m sure loads of people will come forward if there’s any connection to our family. You know what Seaview Estate’s like, don’t you?’ Holly said incredulously. ‘Us, the Balintas and the Mancinis owned it and everyone on it.’ Then she jabbed a finger in DI Harper’s direction. ‘He knows what happened when the Nicholls came in and took a slice of the action a few years before Mum died. Nobody talked to the police. Ever. Since my dad scaled down and Mason Balinta’s been sick, the Nicholls have properly taken over. The Mancinis are turncoats and they ride with anyone who’s onto a winner – they don’t give a shit which family that is. It’ll make it weird now Niko’s out though. They say his dad hasn’t got long.’ At their look she shrugged. ‘My best friend and my aunt still live on the estate, so I know what’s going on. But I’m not a part of it anymore, and I’m not the same person either. My life has changed, and I have a kid to protect. He knows nothing about any of this, and now isn’t the right time to tell him. When he’s older, maybe …’
DI Harper was watching her intently now. ‘At this stage we are just making inquiries. DC Marriot will be taking the lead on this case, so be sure to contact her if you remember anything else and apologies if I have upset you. You should get some rest now. But of course, if Devril Mancini should be in contact …’
DI Harper pulled out his phone, moving quickly, almost as if he was running away from her. The curtains swished closed behind him. DC Marriot lingered for a moment and passed Holly a business card. ‘If you do think of anything else, Mrs Kendal, you can call me at any time. We’ll be in touch if there is any more news.’ She was still an ice queen with perfect eyeliner, but suddenly there was a small, genuine smile touching her lips.
‘Thanks.’ Holly took the card and put it on the cabinet next to Milo’s bed. The woman hurried to catch up with her superior, and Holly listened to the tap of their shoes as they made their way along the line of beds to the door. Deep in thought now, seeking reassurance, she slid a hand onto the bed and found her son’s, linking their fingers as she had done when he was a baby.
Suddenly her composure shattered, and for the first time since the accident she gave way to proper tears, laying her face on the pillow next to Milo’s to muffle her sobs. Devril Mancini? Bloody hell. It was a long time since he’d left the Seaview. She’d kept tabs on him via social media, telling herself she was just safeguarding her secrets, but she never imagined she’d actually meet him again. Too much history, and too many nightmares lay between them.
Holly hunched further into her chair, wrapping her arms around her body, frowning into space. Memories of Dev, an aching in her heart, were clouded by the fact that he knew what really happened back then, the night of the murder. He was the one person who could make her life worse than it already was. And now he was back.
***
‘Mum?’
She was drifting, drained and uncomfortable in the chair next to his bed, when her son’s voice brought her back to what mattered.
‘Mum, are you okay?’ His face was still pale, and his green eyes were bewildered, but he was sitting up, wincing at the pain.
‘Milo, you need to lie down, love, and I’ll get a nurse,’ Holly said quickly, happy tears hot behind her own eyes. Relief made her dizzy for a second. He was all right; he was actually going to be okay … Nothing else mattered.
‘Why? Don’t go …’
Holly pressed the call button and one of the nurses came over to take Milo’s observations. He scribbled a few notes on the clipboard and then smiled at both of them. ‘Looks fine to me. We’ll need to keep the both of you in for a while, but his obs are normal. Any pain, mate?’
Milo nodded. ‘Only my leg.’
‘Okay, I’ll get you something for that,’ the nurse said. He grinned suddenly. ‘They said you play rugby. I do too. I’m Matt and if you need anything at all, Milo, you just call for me, okay?’
Milo nodded. ‘Okay.’ All his usual bounce and self-confidence was stripped away. He looked younger, more vulnerable, and Holly leant over to hug him gently, stroking his hair back from his forehead. He was so pale his freckles were like a spattering of blood across his upturned nose, and his lips were red and sore.
‘The doctor will be around soon, but in the meantime he can have sips of water if he wants them,’ Matt said.
Holly thanked him. The child in the next bed was suddenly violently sick and Matt hurried away. She looked down at her son, one arm still around him, and he wriggled over and snuggled into the crook of her arm, head on her shoulder, and their fingers entwined.
‘Mum, I’m really sorry.’ His voice was faint.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m sorry you crashed the car. It was my fault, wasn’t it? You looked round at me before the deer jumped out because I called you. If you hadn’t looked round we might have still …’ Tears trickled down his cheeks.
‘Sweetie, you didn’t cause the car crash,’ Holly said hastily. ‘Of course you didn’t. It was a combination of things and bad luck.’ She glanced at him, afraid of traumatising him further.
‘There was the car behind, wasn’t there?’ Milo said thoughtfully. ‘He crashed into us when we swerved to avoid that van, and again before we went down the bank.’
‘Yes.’
‘There was a man too. He was in the woods after we crashed. I think he brought the other boy.’ His voice was dreamy now, and he snuggled further into her.
‘What? A man? Who was he?’ She’d just assumed Milo had been out cold like she’d been. ‘Had you seen him before?’ She couldn’t stop the surprise in her voice, and hastily softened her questions, soothing him. Her mind was buzzing. ‘Milo? Was it someone you had seen before, sweetie?’
The boy paused, his head still on her shoulder, his forehead crinkling as he considered. ‘No, I’ve never seen him before. I couldn’t see much in the car because it was all shadows. I tried to call out for you but you didn’t answer. I was scared and I tried to move but I couldn’t. It felt like I was half sleeping but then he was there and the other boy was next to me. The man smiled at me, and he touched both our faces like this …’ Milo reached up and stroked Holly’s cheek with gentle fingers.
‘He … touched you? Did he say anything?’ She forced herself not to sound too horrified, to keep the conversation going, but her stomach lurched. A man had been there whilst she was unconscious. He had delivered a child to her car. He’d touched Milo’s face. It made no sense at all.
‘No, but he went all round the car and looked at you in the front. He touched your neck.’ He vaguely tapped the area below his jawline.
Jesus. Who was this lunatic? Someone had checked whether she had a pulse, was dead and then they’d vanished? She needed to call DC Marriot, but not in front of her boy. He seemed to be coming out of this okay, and it wouldn’t be fair to scare him further. But as soon as she could …
After Milo had eaten some toast, Holly scrolled through various social media sites and finally pulled up a fairly recent picture of Devril Mancini, snagged from his Instagram page. She had kept an eye on all of them over them over the years, despite cutting herself off from the past. He’d been a personal trainer when they were younger, but now his profiles just said ‘Freelance writer’, which was pretty vague. She found Niko’s Twitter feed. Brand new and with just a few followers. His Instagram feed seemed to consist mostly of jars of sweets. Which was weird. Had Niko bought the corner shop? Squinting more closely she saw that there were emojis of snowflakes and pills, subtly advertising to those who knew exactly what was on offer. No, not candy, but drugs. Fresh out of jail and already Niko was back in business. There had been news articles occasionally, examining the case, and the papers had dredged everything up when he was released. Hesitantly, she showed photos of both men to her son.
She zoomed in on a shot of Niko. He hadn’t changed much – older of course, dark eyes wary and his smile just short of real. ‘Milo, is this the man who was in the car?’ She was holding her breath, almost willing him to say yes, to solve one piece of the puzzle at least.
He leant over, peered at her phone, and shook his head.
‘Or this one?’
Her son squinted at Devril’s picture for longer, frowning, toast crumbs decorating the side of his mouth. ‘I don’t think so. It was dark and I had that floaty feeling but I don’t think it was this man. He had a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. It was a red one like Dad has …’
‘You mean a GAP one?’
‘Yeah, and the man had a ring on his hand. I felt it when he touched me.’ Milo yawned and, still leaning against her shoulder, drifted back to sleep.
Waiting until he was snoring, Holly moved his head gently back onto the pillow and extricated herself from his clutching fingers. She picked up the card from the cabinet and wheeled herself down to the main entrance towards the coffee machine. Even hospital coffee was better than nothing and she needed to wake up. She was missing something here. Every movement hurt her body and tiredness fogged her brain. She took out her phone, then hesitated.
No way she wanted to speak to the police again so soon, but this mattered. If only to show that she had been telling the truth about not knowing who the child was or how he got there. Although she had to admit it was a bit extreme to think both police officers had doubts about her sanity, hell, she did too at this moment in time.
‘DC Marriot.’
‘It’s Holly Kendal. Milo just woke up and he says that he saw a man in my car after the crash. He thinks he brought the other boy.’
‘My God. Did he recognise him?’ Her voice was sharp, excited.
‘He says not but I think he’d be able to give you a description.’ No need to say she had already shown him a picture of Devril Mancini, or they’d be bound to wonder about the connection again. She could still hear her dad yelling at her brother to never trust the fucking police, and after years of that the mistrust was stuck in her brain.
‘Good. Look, I’m tied up at the moment but I’ll send a colleague back down to the hospital to chat with Milo, if that’s all right? Does he remember anything else?’
‘I don’t think so. He hasn’t said.’
‘That’s fine.’
Holly rang off and sat just inside the doors, watching the busy car park. Ambulances were lined up outside the side entrance, queuing to deliver their patients, and a steady stream of walking wounded tottered into A&E. Every time the doors opened, a blast of icy air hit her face, reminding her it was still winter.
But the sky outside was a perfect pale washed blue, and the morning sunlight cast a feeble brightness across flickering shadows on the tarmac. A grimy concrete pot of spring flowers stood next to the overflowing rubbish bin. Their green shoots and yellow petals were struggling through the sour earth dotted with cigarette ends, but by some miracle they were still growing.
Chapter 4
Dear Mum,
There is so much shit I need to tell you, but it’s hard to put it into words. My fingers are shaking because it’s really cold in the flat, but I can see you watching me from the wall and that helps a bit.
I’ve got all your photos up, Mum, and I’ve got this cool list that Dad gave me that has all your favourite things. He doesn’t just write you letters, he talks to you all the time. Are you really there? Perhaps it isn’t him who’s gone mad; perhaps it’s just that the others can’t see you.
Anyway, I wanted to let you know we’re never going to forget you and we’ve got a plan that will make you happy. Dad says if we do little things in your memory then it will help until we carry out the plan.
I’m not sure if it does help, because he sometimes cries, or shouts your name and punches the wall. The neighbours yell and bang on their side when he does that. Not on your wall, of course. Yours is beautiful. We painted the whole side of the room yellow like sunshine, and we pinned up loads of pictures, a copy of the list, and some of your clothes. It’s really special and every night we light a candle and Dad says we have to spend a while just thinking about you.
I kind of like this time of night, because it’s quiet, and I can feel you close when we are near the wall. The smell of beer makes me feel a bit sick, but at least Dad is sleeping too. Sometimes he chokes and throws up, but after the first time, I know what to do. I just clean up and I make sure when he passes out his head is turned to one side because Layla at school said she does that for her mum too.
Are you really there, Mum? I kind of need to know, but if you can’t tell me don’t worry, I understand. I know you’re looking out for me. Can you keep an eye on Dad too? Just when he goes a bit crazy. I’m worried that he might do something stupid and they’ll take him away. Don’t tell him I said so.
I love you, Mum
x
Chapter 5
‘She’s dead!’
‘Listen to me. Put both hands on the centre of her chest, one on top of the other. Are you doing that?’
‘Yes.’
‘Now push down hard and fast. Don’t be afraid to push too hard. You can help her …’
‘I’m doing it! I’m fucking doing it, okay?’
‘Great. Well done. Keep going. One, two, three, four … I’ll stay with you until the ambulance arrives. Is the door unlocked?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Keep going. One, two, three, four …’
‘I can’t …’
‘It’s okay. Keep going, sweetheart, you are doing so well. The ambulance is nearly with you.’
‘I can hear sirens.’
‘Keep going.’
‘Oh, the police are here!’
‘It’s okay, just keep going until the ambulance crew take over.’
‘They’re here!’
‘Okay, you can hang up on me now. Well done, Holly.’
Holly drifted back to consciousness, fighting her way through the ragged remains of nightmares. Her own brother’s girlfriend and she hadn’t saved her … It was like a knife, jabbing quickly, mercilessly under her ribs.
Her eyes darted around the room as she took deep breaths, feeling her pulse slowing down to normal. At least they were home now, and she was in her own bed, in her own house. She hadn’t had that dream for ages, and the memories were unwelcome, dripping through into real life, into her perfect real life that she had so carefully constructed. Except it wasn’t so perfect anymore. Tom had turned into a cheating bastard, and she was left struggling to pay the bills on her own. Not to mention his charming text messages. Since the accident she’d had only one more, but she was now seriously considering telling DC Marriot about them.
She struggled out of bed, feeling the twinge in her leg, adjusting her weight to compensate. But she was okay. If she kept telling herself that, she might even start to believe it. After all, the hospital had given them the all clear and discharged them both; medically they must be all right. Milo was calling from his room now, something about a dragon egg hatching into a wolf. She could do this. ‘Coming! Can you reach your crutches okay?’
‘Yeah, I just want to show you this really cool evolving dragon egg!’
Holly pulled a thick fleece on over her pyjamas and staggered towards his room, pushing away the dregs of the nightmare, focusing on what was important. But she couldn’t help thinking about the other boy. The silent, pale child still lying in his hospital bed, who had nobody to shout for, nobody to claim him. The rush of protective emotion she had experienced after she found him in her car was still there.
Her aunt was already busy crashing around the kitchen downstairs, making one of her famous fry-ups. Holly, who preferred to get at least two cups of coffee down before she even thought about food, felt her stomach heave slightly at the smell of bacon.
But Milo was soon sliding down the stairs on his bum, dragging his crutches behind him, apparently desperate for food. ‘Lydia, can you leave my eggs all runny please and can I have a sausage too?’
***
‘Lydia, I’m fine. I can do it.’ They were sitting in the living room, which after Lydia’s assault with the Hoover and dusters was unusually clean and tidy. Milo was drawing at the kitchen table.
‘Holly, you most certainly are not fine. You told the police someone almost ran you off the road, and now they seem to think all kinds of things about how this other boy got in the car. Before you say a word, you know I believe you. As if you wouldn’t say if you knew who he was! That DI Harper sticking his beak in around here again isn’t going to help anyone, is it? Now what’s all this about you thinking you’re going back to work on Monday? You’re barely back on your feet!’
Holly took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Don’t be so dramatic. I have to go back to work because I need the money. You know I always work overtime shifts to cover the extra on the mortgage, now Tom’s gone.’
‘You should move house, get somewhere smaller instead of killing yourself working all hours. Come back to the Seaview, love,’ her aunt told her. Then her expression softened. ‘Of course, I’ll have Milo when you’re working as usual, but give yourself a break, love. The two of you have only been out of hospital for a few days.’
‘Thanks, Lydia.’ Holly smiled at her, silently adding that whilst she was still sane and breathing there was no way on earth she was going back to live on the Seaview. The mirror opposite the sofa reflected them, so similar both physically and mentally. With the pale winter sunlight shining through the window, casting a gentle glow across her face, Lydia looked so much like Holly’s mum.
Lydia was the older sister, pushing sixty-eight now, but the black curls were glossy and as usual she was heavily made up, with red lipstick and lashings of dark eyeliner. Lydia’s husband had died four years ago, and she had dealt with the grief as only she could – by joining a swanky health club and spending lots of money on clothes.
Lydia had no kids so she had always had a lot of time for Holly and her brother. She could have moved off the estate years ago, but she said she was happy in her flat. Her husband, Mick, had invested in property and a bar in Spain, and Lydia said as soon as Holly was settled she’d go and live in the sunshine.
The older woman got up and moved over to the window. ‘At least you haven’t had any reporters hanging around in the last few days. Whilst you were in hospital they were parked out front for a bit, even knocking on the door when I was over stocking the fridge, and I told you I went over and had a word … I get that it’s a good story but they’ve got no right to turn up on your doorstep. That poor boy … I just keep thinking why the hell haven’t his parents reported him missing? It really gets me to think maybe he doesn’t have anyone, any family to worry about him …’
The phantom child in Holly’s car was a great story, but so far both police and journalists had drawn a blank. A police appeal had been on the national news, giving sparse details and focusing on the fact that somewhere, someone must know a child was missing. Her name hadn’t been mentioned but from her previous experience she knew journalists had ways and means of tracking people down. Although DC Marriot had told her the boy seemed to be improving and the most recent scans were encouraging, nobody could really be certain he was okay, until he regained consciousness.
She would go back and visit him this week. Perhaps subconsciously he would know that somebody was looking out for him. In a weird way he had been given to her, and she felt responsible until another superseded her claim.
‘Do they know who the other boy is yet?’ Milo asked suddenly, abandoning his drawing and hopping into the living room. ‘I mean, what if they already know who he is but they aren’t telling us?’ He was fiddling with the TV remote, half his attention on the task in hand, half focused on this intriguing subject. He’d brought it up numerous times every day since they’d been out of hospital. After a couple of days of being pale and withdrawn, he had gradually recovered his bounce and confidence. But the questions were the same: Was the boy conscious yet? Why was he in the car? Who put him there? Lately he had started on this conspiracy theory, and become convinced the police knew the boy’s identity.
DC Marriot’s colleague, DS Steph Harlow had carefully questioned Milo, but he said he remembered nothing after the deer leaping across the road, until he woke up in hospital. When Holly reminded him what he had said about the man leaving the other boy in the car, his chin set stubbornly and he shook his head. The nurse told her later that the memories could come back, but it was also possible that now Milo was fully awake, he was simply blocking out the whole traumatic event, and even if he did remember, he didn’t want to share it.
The doorbell rang and Holly made a move to get up, even as her aunt went to the door, her high-heeled fluffy mules tapping on the wooden floor. She could hear the initial stilted conversation, and frowned. Great, Tom was the last person she wanted to see. It was a shame he couldn’t have stayed abroad. He had returned from his overseas lecture tour two days after the accident, but had made sure his visits to Milo in hospital didn’t coincide with Holly’s. Then, reassured by the medical staff that Milo was on the mend, he had resumed his tour, and departed for a further three days in Berlin.
‘Dad!’ Recognising the voice, Milo scrambled for his crutches and hopped proficiently out of the room.
‘Hallo, mate, how are you doing?’
‘Yeah, I’m okay. Mum’s doing well too, says her leg is nearly better but mine is actually broken.’
‘I know. I wanted to come back sooner, but I needed stay for this work conference … Still, it’s all done now. Want to see what I bought you?’
‘Yes! Am I coming to stay with you when Mum goes back to work?’
‘Come inside properly then, and I’ll show you your present.’ Tom had been walking down the hall as he greeted his son but now they both appeared in the doorway. Tom was carrying a large square box, wrapped in shiny green paper.
Holly nodded politely at her ex-husband, but couldn’t bring herself to speak. The sight of yet another expensive present for Milo made her wince. She supposed he was doing it to make up for the divorce, but it made things awkward, and highlighted the fact she couldn’t afford to buy her son expensive presents. Her aunt scowled at Tom, muttered something about a cup of tea and vanished into the kitchen.
‘So, Holly, how are you feeling?’ He was clearly forcing himself to be civil, and without waiting for an answer he carefully pulled Milo close to his side, dropping a kiss on his blonde head. ‘Thank God Milo is okay.’
She managed to respond to this. ‘Yes, he’s fine now. He’s going back to school on Monday. Milo, can you go and help Lydia while I chat to your dad? He can come and play football with you in the garden in a minute, okay? And then you can open your present too.’ Holly smiled. ‘I did say he shouldn’t be playing football, but he’s determined to be goalie at the very least.’