‘It’s impossible,’ Pa says. ‘No one could possibly have put that much alcohol away. You should be dead.’ He doesn’t sound angry, just incredulous.
‘I wish I was dead,’ she slurs. Then she laughs.
‘Stop it. You’re really worrying me. You need help.’
I hear her say something else, but I can’t make out the words.
‘No!’ Pa shouts. ‘Absolutely not!’
My heart speeds up and a hot flush sweeps across my scalp. Please God, I think, stop them arguing. Please let them be normal. But my prayers aren’t answered.
‘If you think I’m getting you anymore alcohol, you’re mad!’ Pa continues. ‘What? So you can drink yourself to death. What about Riley? Have you forgotten you’ve got another daughter?’
I close my bedroom door in fright as a crashing noise rushes down the hall towards me. Ma must’ve thrown something. I can hear her angry screams. The bass notes of Pa’s voice soothe her shrill hysterics and gradually her screams subside.
I stand with my back to my bedroom door, out of breath as though I’ve been running hard. I hear it all, listening with horrified fascination. Skye has gone, my father is an emotional void and my mother is a drunken mess. Another smash, another shriek, another shout. I have to get out of here.
I don’t want to go out in just my t shirt, so I pull on a pair of denim cut offs, tiptoe into the hall and creep down the stairs. I unchain the front door, unlock it and stumble outside into the warm night air. The panic subsides a little and I breathe in deeply through my nose. My world has sunk into an abyss from which I can’t imagine ever escaping. Nothing is solid or sure anymore. Life has become a shifting swamp of monsters and nightmares and I want to wake up.
I find myself in Luc’s driveway - I’ve wandered next door. Knowing his parents are still away, I ring the doorbell and wait. After a minute I see the hall light come on and the outline of a person. Normally I would never ring someone’s doorbell in the middle of the night - that was Skye’s territory. But there’s nothing normal about my life anymore.
‘Riley?’ Luc says through a yawn. ‘You okay?’
I shake my head.
‘What is it?’
I shake my head again, suddenly overcome with the urge to cry.
‘Come in,’ he says, concerned.
I don’t explain or apologise, but follow him through to the lounge.
‘What’s up, Riley?’ he asks, sitting on a large armchair. ‘Did something happen?’
‘No,’ I squeak, trying desperately not to cry. I sink onto the sofa and chew my nails.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ He tries again.
I shake my head and try to get rid of the lump in my throat.
‘I just want to do something normal,’ I whisper, knowing how ridiculous that sounds after coming here in the middle of the night.
We sit there for a minute in silence. I try to compose myself, not wanting to break down in front of Luc. I hear the ticking of a clock. It sounds as though it’s getting louder, but I must be imagining it.
‘Wanna play Uno?’ Luc asks, standing up and going over to the sideboard. He opens a drawer and pulls out a pack of cards.
‘I love Uno,’ I say. ‘Me and Skye always used to play.’
One hour later and I’ve managed to get the earlier events of the night down to a background hum in my head.
‘How come you always beat me?’ I throw my cards onto the floor in disgust.
‘Sheer skill,’ he replies.
‘Cheating I reckon.’
‘No, you’re just a bad loser,’ he smirks.
‘God, you’re annoying.’ I pick up some of my cards and bend them back in an arc, like Pa had taught me, so they flip across into his face.
‘Yeah, Riley, very mature.’
I smile. But despite my new-found light-heartedness, I want to talk to Luc about something more serious, something that’s been bugging me for a while. We’ve gotten easy in each other’s company and I don’t want to spoil it. I also don’t want him to think I’ve lost the plot even more. But I decide to just say it.
‘Luc ...’
‘Yeah?’
‘I want to find Chambers and make him pay for what he did to Skye.’
‘I know.’
‘No you don’t. I really mean I actually want to leave our Perimeter and track him down. He killed my sister and he’s out there; somewhere.’
Finding Chambers has now almost become an obsession with me. If I shoot him in the head, will it lessen my pain? If I torture him and extract a confession, will the sadness leave me?
‘I do know, Riley,’ he says again. ‘I want to make Chambers pay too. I can’t believe he escaped.’
‘So will you help me?’
‘It’s not that simple. How would we even find him? He’s probably fled the country by now.’
‘But if he is in England I have to find him. I want to put a gun to his head and I want to pull the trigger. I don’t want … He can’t get away with what he’s done.’
‘Let me think about it, yeah?’ He reaches across and touches my arm. ‘We should think about it.’
It’s a couple of days later and Luc and I have agreed to meet down by the stream at Coy Pond. Woolly trots by my side and I have to hurry him along as he keeps getting distracted by one glorious smell or another.
Luc’s the only person I feel at all comfortable with now, but he’s been barred from coming to the house. Ma’s got it into her head that he’s somehow to blame for Skye’s death. It’s crazy. She’s known him almost since he was born. So now I have to visit him in secret, which isn’t hard given Ma’s oblivious state.
I see Luc every day. His folks aren’t due back for another few weeks and he hates being at his place on his own, where it happened. We’ve been going for walks or talking and playing cards. As far as I know, he doesn’t spend any time with his other friends.
Luc’s already waiting when we arrive and Woolly bounds ahead to greet him, causing the ducks and moorhens on the bank to take flight or flap and waddle for cover. Luc slides off the high stone wall and almost runs towards me, his eyes shining. I’m always pleased to see him these days but I wonder what’s behind his enthusiasm today. He’s normally more laid back and I feel good that he’s so happy to see me.
‘There’s been a sighting of Chambers,’ he grins. ‘They spotted him two weeks ago heading north out of Warminster in your mum’s AV.’
‘Who? Who spotted him?’
‘Two soldiers stopped him for a routine check, but they let him go. Idiots.’
‘What! Why did they let him go?’
‘I s’pose they didn’t know who he was. But when they got back to their base they saw his picture and ID’d him as Skye’s killer. The army’s out there now searching the area.’
‘That’s great, Luc,’ I interrupt. ‘But that was two weeks ago. He could be anywhere by now.’
‘I haven’t finished,’ he says. ‘Yesterday, a guard in the West Country thought he saw him.’ Luc takes the rucksack from my hand and swings it on to his back. ‘Come on let’s walk. I thought you’d be pleased.’
We follow the stream.
‘I am pleased,’ I say, ‘but there’s no way they’ll find him. A guard thought he saw him? It might not even be him. The army isn’t really interested. We’d have a much better chance of finding him ourselves. We’re involved. They’re not.’ I hear the negative tone in my voice and see Luc’s disappointed face. ‘But it’s better than nothing,’ I add. ‘Maybe they will catch him.’
We walk in silence for a bit. I don’t know what to say. I think I hurt Luc’s feelings with my unenthusiastic response. He walks beside me with an unreadable expression on his face and I trawl my brain cells for something positive to say, something that will sound genuine. I’m not a very good liar. After about five minutes of unwanted silence, Luc stops and puts his hand on my bare arm.
‘Look, Riley, I completely understand you want to go and find Chamber
s yourself. Skye was your sister and she was my friend and it's completely crap he escaped justice, but we don’t know where he is and, even if we did, how would we get out of the Perimeter? We’ve got no transport. What would we do even if we did find him?’
I don’t reply.
‘He’s obviously dangerous and he’s not going to come back with us willingly. Not to mention what it’s actually like out there. I mean, Riley. It’s bad. There’s no law. It’s nothing like it is in here, in our cosy little Perimeter.’
I listen to all his reasonable objections as we walk, and I scuff my flip flops along the broken path that runs by the side of the stream, knowing in my heart that everything he says makes sense. But I feel disappointed and flat. The finality of Skye’s death hits me again, like a full stop when there’s still so much more to say. So Luc’s next words come as a shock, interrupting my resignation:
‘Oh, d’you know what? Sod it. Let’s give it a go.’ He stops walking and turns to face me.
‘What? Really? You mean ...’
‘Yeah, let’s try and find him, if that’s what you really want. We can only try can’t we? Then at least we can say …’
But I don’t let him finish his sentence.
‘Do you really mean it? You’ll help me?’ Maybe he’s just humouring me. Does he think we can actually do this? But when I look into his eyes, I realise he’s one hundred percent serious.
*
We spend the next five days in a frenzy of activity. It’s August, just over a month since we lost Skye and finally I can do something positive. I really feel hopeful that we might find her killer.
Pa must know I spend all my time with Luc, but if he does know he doesn’t say anything. Ma is still half mad with grief and I’ve tuned her out of my day-to-day existence in order to cope with it. When I’m away from her, I don’t let myself think about her and what it means for my family’s long-term relationship. If I give it more than a few seconds thought, I start to panic and feel sick, so I focus on Luc and on our secret plan. We’ve arranged to leave the Perimeter on September 7th - exactly two months after Skye’s death.
Chapter Six
Eleanor
*
When we were sixteen and studying for our mock ‘A’ Levels, my school’s Sixth Form organised one of those American-style prom nights as an end of year bash. Abi and I loved to laugh at the cheesiness of it all, but at the same time we were excited by its possibilities.
It was to be held in three weeks’ time, at the end of June. The theme was Sixties Psychedelia and we’d already notched up several hours experimenting with hair straighteners, false eyelashes and powdery pale pink lipstick.
I didn’t have my eye on anybody special to go with, but Abi was besotted with a boy called Samuel who lived in the village. We’d first met him and his best friend, Johnny, in a local pub garden.
Nobody made a big deal of the fact we were all under-age. We weren’t getting drunk, just hanging out with our friends, drinking half pints of lager and eating salt and vinegar crisps. Taking time out from tedious end-of-year exam revision, we’d taken over two long trestle tables and were planning our forthcoming prom night and our far-off summer holidays.
On the next table sat two eye-catching blokes, one of whom I recognised as the blond tousled-haired, good-looking-but-knew-it, Samuel Bletchley. My parents vaguely knew his family, but I didn’t know him to talk to. His friend was less obviously handsome, but had a cool self-assurance, with broad shoulders and dark cropped hair.
I kept catching his eye and looking away. They were smiling and laughing together and I knew they were discussing me and my friends. Abi sat opposite me and I told her about the nice view over to my right.
‘Don’t look over,’ I hissed. Of course she leaned right back in her seat and stared directly across at them. I shouldn’t have been surprised as this was typical Abi behaviour. I was mortified and pleased all at once.
Samuel got up and walked over to Abi. He cast his eyes over her and asked if she would mind if he and his friend joined us. Abi smiled and gave him the cliché that it’s a free country. So they lifted up their table and joined it onto the end of ours, spilling their pints in the process.
*
‘So, you have to say yes, when Johnny asks you to the prom,’ Abi said, tossing the magazine down onto my bedroom floor. She lay on her stomach on the bed, with her feet on my pillow.
‘Ask me to the prom? He’s not going to ask me to the prom.’
‘Course he is. Sam’s going to ask me, so his best mate will ask my best mate.’ She gave me one of her cyanide smiles.
Samuel was a player and I guessed it would take more than sixteen-year-old Abigail Robbins to tame him, but she was determined to give it a go. Johnny came from the south coast but was living with Samuel while he studied at university in Bath. Their families went way back, apparently.
‘So don’t let me down, Ellie. It’ll be a laugh anyway,’ Abi said.
‘I suppose so,’ I replied. ‘It’s not like there’s anyone else I really like at the moment.’
‘Cool. So that’s sorted then.’
Things being what they were, two weeks before the event, Johnny and Samuel asked us if we would like to accompany them to the Prom. Abi was ecstatic. I’d never seen her so completely smitten and it was the first time she’d been flustered by anything or anyone.
My parents were far from happy with Johnny’s interest in me. If I’m truthful, neither was I. He was five years older than me and I thought he would expect more than I wanted to give. He was very rich, very intelligent and had just finished his third year at Uni, studying Chemical Engineering. He was handsome, but not in a heart-stopping way, and he seemed nice, but something harder glinted behind his smile.
The only reason my parents didn’t forbid me from seeing him, was because he came round to see them, to charm them and reassure them I would be safe in his company. Also, my wise mother knew that if she imposed a ban, it would only make him more attractive to me.
Samuel worked for his father, who owned Bletchley’s, a long-established Prestige Car Showroom on the A38. Consequently, Abi and Samuel arrived at the Prom in style, with Samuel behind the wheel of a jaw-droppingly cool Maybach Exelero. Johnny’s ride was far from shabby. He called round to my house in his own Aston Martin - a silver V8 Vantage. Despite my indifference to cars in general, I couldn’t help but be seduced by this low-slung beauty.
The evening exuded glamour and sophistication. We’d persuaded the teacher in charge that holding it in the school sports hall would be just too sad, and so they’d hired out a local nightclub for the event.
The four of us sat upstairs on the balcony above the heaving dance floor. Abi and I wore psychedelic mini dresses and zip up boots. And we had poker-straight sixties-style hair. We knew we looked good, but that still didn’t help me to relax, as most of the time I felt completely out of my depth conversation-wise.
Samuel shouted above the noise of the music. ‘Yeah man, I was completely wasted and I told her to ...’ He held his hand in front of his face and mouthed something to Johnny.’
‘Sam,’ Johnny shook his head, ‘you are one sick little puppy.’
Abigail ran her hands up and down Samuel’s thigh, while she kissed his neck and nibbled his ear. He virtually ignored her and carried on bragging to Johnny about this girl and that girl, this car and that car. I wouldn’t have put up with it, but Abi didn’t seem to care. She seemed relaxed and happy, gazing adoringly at him all evening.
I think Johnny sensed they weren’t quite hitting my wavelength, and he nudged Sam.
‘Hey, Sammy, tone it down a bit. I don’t think Eleanor and Abi are interested in your list of conquests.’
‘Whatever, mate, whatever.’
By this time, I’d already decided I would much rather have spent the evening having a laugh with my friends, than trying to act grown-up around someone I wasn’t even really attracted to. As soon as I realised I didn’t actually f
ancy him, I relaxed. And then Johnny just seemed more of a temporary inconvenience than the scary grown man I’d been trying to impress all night.
Before the end of the evening, Sam and Abi disappeared off somewhere. She’d hinted earlier she might sleep with him that night. She’d said you were duty bound to sleep with someone on Prom Night, stressing this in a fake American accent. She said she liked the clichéd kitschness of it.
She’d already lost her virginity a year earlier and, at the time, I had assumed that would be the end of our friendship. We were at different stages. I didn’t feel anywhere near ready or inclined to sleep with any of the boys I knew and felt sure she would ditch me for a worldlier friend, or we’d just drift apart, having so much less in common. But she liked this shift in our relationship and enjoyed being the one to tell me what I was missing.
One thing I will say for Johnny - he acted like an absolute gentleman all night. He didn’t try to grope me once. Just leaned in for a goodnight kiss when the taxi reached my house. I felt obliged to kiss him back and was surprised to find I enjoyed it. A lot. He pulled away first, which took me aback.
‘Goodnight,’ I stammered.
He smiled and touched my cheek briefly. ‘Night, I’ll call you.’
Chapter Seven
Riley
*
I sit in the kitchen and eat my cereal absent-mindedly, thinking about our plan. I’m nervous and excited as I mentally run through the supplies we’re taking with us. Ma comes into the kitchen and it takes me a few seconds to work out why she looks different. She’s dressed, made-up and, strangest of all, sober.
‘Darling, come here and give me a hug.’
I slide off the stool and walk towards her. She smells clean and fresh. She must have had a bath. Relief overtakes me. I kiss her cheek - the first time in a while that I’m actually happy to do so. We hug, but she doesn’t cling to me or cry. She holds the backs of my hands and pushes me away from her so she can study me better.
‘You look gorgeous!’ she exclaims. ‘When did you get so grown up? Is that my lip gloss you’re wearing? Never mind, it suits you.’
‘Hi, Ma, you look good too. We've been worried about you.’
‘You’re such a good girl, Riley. Strong, like your father.’ She sniffs and blinks rapidly. ‘Now, darling, I’ve got something to tell you.’ She pauses.