‘I say journalist, but it’s TV. A live show.’
George tries to rearrange his features into one of surprise, as though it’s the first time he has heard this.
‘They want a new angle, apparently. I guess the fact he’s out there again, gives it a new angle.’ She laughs bitterly.
‘What do Carly and Marie think of the TV idea?’
‘Marie’s all for it. She thinks it will be healing. Get everything out there once and for all and lay it to rest. She thinks we’ll be left alone then.’
‘Maybe she’s right?’ George says cautiously. ‘You have nothing to be ashamed of, Leah. None of you,’ he says although he knows Marie should feel ashamed.
Does feel ashamed.
‘Marie says she wants forgiveness. Don’t we all?’ She sighs.
‘Yes,’ George says softly. Sometimes he thinks he wants to be found out but Leah doesn’t ask him what he needs to be forgiven for and he wonders – not for the first time – whether part of her knows. Whether she really believes he has so many evening meetings. ‘Maybe meet with the producer and talk it through? It could be good for you. Good for us.’ George purposefully doesn’t mention the huge fee he knows is at stake.
‘Carly hates the idea. Last night I rang her and she was crying and that was even before I told her the news. This morning when I called she could barely pull herself together long enough to talk. It’s too much, him being out so close to the anniversary. I can’t get hold of Marie either. I rang her about a million times last night after Graham called. She said she was going to be home all evening but she didn’t pick up. I thought I saw him yesterday, you know.’
‘Graham?’ George can’t keep up with the way her mind is fragmenting.
‘No. Not Graham,’ she says impatiently and George knows exactly who she means.
She thinks he’s coming after her like before.
It’s happening. It’s happening again.
‘Leah.’ He takes her hand. Wishing he could feel skin instead of cotton. ‘You have nothing to hide.’
‘You don’t understand…’
‘I do.’ He squeezes her fingers. ‘I know what happened to you back then. I know everything about you.’
‘Nobody knows everything about anyone,’ she says darkly. George knows he has made a promise to Marie. He knows the approaching twenty-year anniversary is landsliding it all back, threatening to bury them all completely.
George knows more than he should.
He knows what’s to come.
He shakes away all thoughts of running away.
He doesn’t want to arouse suspicion.
Chapter Thirteen
Carly
Then
What was in the cardboard box?
Carly scratched at the brown parcel tape that sealed it with her nail until the end lifted but still she didn’t dare rip it off. Her heart kicked against her chest. Her stomach spun around faster. She had assumed the smell of decay was from years of neglect, from the rubbish, but what if it was coming from the box? What if it held the remains of something… or someone? It wasn’t large enough for a person, unless they’d been chopped up, but that only happened in movies, didn’t it? She thought again of Psycho. Of Norman Bates’ dead mother rocking in that chair.
‘What are you do—’
‘Stay over there,’ Carly ordered her sisters.
Think.
She needed to be brave and find out what was inside but Carly didn’t feel brave. She felt small and scared and she wanted to go home.
‘Is there something in the box?’ Marie asked.
Something.
Someone.
‘I… I don’t know, Marie.’
‘Why don’t you just—’
‘Shush a minute.’
Think.
The cardboard was stiff and dry. It hadn’t been here for as long as everything else. There was no blood seeping from the bottom of the box. What if it contained, not unimaginable horrors, but something useful? A torch perhaps. The prospect of this excited her not just because it would be dark soon and they’d have light, that was secondary to the desire for a weapon. Carly could picture herself hiding behind the door. Feel the weight of the torch in her hand, the force in her shoulder as she brought it down on Moustache’s head. Hear his screams. Smell his blood. She wasn’t usually one for dark thoughts but then this was not a usual situation. Her mind hopped. If not a torch then maybe tools. Something she could use to slice through the metal bars.
She had to find out.
Carly glanced out of the window and then across to the door. No one was watching except the graffiti clown with his wide staring eyes, but still she felt uneasy.
Her hands shook as she tore off the tape. She quickly shuffled backwards, half expecting a swarm of rats to rush towards her or a plague of insects, but there was nothing. Carly inched forwards again, taking care to avoid kneeling on the shards of glass.
‘Oh.’ Out of all the things she had been expecting, it wasn’t… this.
‘What’s in there, Carly? Can we see?’ asked Marie.
‘In a sec.’ Carly rummaged through the contents, her hope sinking as she interpreted what they meant. The box had been left here for the girls, Carly had no doubt.
What was in store for them she still didn’t know but she did know that they wouldn’t be going home yet.
There were multiple bags of Spicy Tomato Snaps, the green dragon grinning his toothy grin from the front of the packet. Carly normally loved them but she shoved them out of the way, disinterested. Underneath them lay a couple of bags of blackcurrant liquorice sweets and several cans of cherry Coke. There was also a pink blanket, soft and fleecy, still with its tags, and somehow Carly knew that Doc had put that in there, and oddly a small teddy bear, his arms outstretched, red knitted jumper riding over his rounded belly. This kindness seemed at odds with the way they’d been so brutally snatched from their lives that Carly began to cry.
What did they want with them? It was all too much.
The tapping of the tree outside grew louder. The room grew smaller. Carly cried harder, fighting for breath as the ceiling pressed down.
She crouched low. She couldn’t breathe.
‘Don’t cry, Carly.’ Her sisters rushed to her side and each draped a thin arm around her neck, pressing their warm bodies against hers, and this made Carly’s tears flow faster.
‘The bear doesn’t want you to be sad.’ Leah reached for the teddy from the box and waved him in front of Carly’s face.
‘It will be okay.’ Marie stroked her hair. ‘I promise. We’ll be home soon and then we’ll go on holiday.’
‘Where to?’ Leah asked.
‘Disneyland probably,’ Marie said.
Carly knew it was wishful thinking. They were supposed to go to Florida last year but it had been cancelled because Dad was too busy with work and, although he promised they’d go away at half-term instead, they didn’t end up going anywhere.
‘See. Don’t cry, Carly. We’ll be on a plane on the way to meet Mickey Mouse soon,’ said Leah even though she was terrified of flying. This small act of bravery led Carly’s lungs to loosen. Oxygen began to flow around her body. The burn in her chest started to subside. She couldn’t give up. She wouldn’t give up. But while she waited for an idea to hit – the perfect plan to get them home – she could distract her sisters. Distract herself.