How the Trouble Started (14 page)

I went back to see Jake. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t supposed to, that I could get in more trouble. I had to see him, I needed to check that he was all right, that they’d told me the truth. I waited in the trees outside the playground. My timing was out and I had to wait ten minutes before the yard started to fill up, but then I saw him. There were three of them now: him, Harry and another lad, a new friend, almost as gormless-looking as Harry. The weather had turned and there was a snap in the air, a cold that hadn’t been in the town for months. Jake’s two friends were wearing coats, Jake was only in his jumper, and I wondered if he even had a coat, I’d never seen one, he’d need something for the coming winter. Maybe a teacher would notice. The tree in the corner was still their spot and they headed over there and started to muck around, pushing each other, laughing and chatting. They looked like they were having fun and it was good to see. It was only when the other two ran off and Jake went after them that I noticed his leg. He dragged it along after him slightly, like he couldn’t quite lift it all the way off the ground. It slowed him down, but it didn’t look like it caused him any pain and he appeared to be having as much fun as the others, even if he couldn’t quite keep up. To see him so firmly alive was the best sight I’d ever seen. After I’d watched him for a minute or two I turned to leave. I walked across town to the haunted house but I could see from the road that the police had been at it. There were grilles over the windows and round the back it was just the same: a grille over the door, all the windows covered, no way back in at all.

The only other person I wanted to see was Fiona. It was impossible to go to her house because of her brother, and I still wasn’t going to school, so I had to keep my eyes peeled on the quarry. Finally I saw her. I didn’t know how she would react but it was important to speak to her. I called out her name but her headphones were in and she was walking away from me. When I touched her shoulder she jumped and spun round. ‘Bloody hell Donald. You scared the shit out of me.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Fucking creeping up on me like that.’

‘Sorry.’

‘God you look a mess.’

‘I look better than I did.’

‘They made a right mess of you.’

‘I didn’t know if you would talk to me or not.’

‘What were you thinking Donald?’

‘I wasn’t doing anything bad.’

‘The police came to ask me questions and I didn’t know what to tell them,’ she said.

‘I wasn’t doing anything funny.’

‘I don’t think you were.’

‘Nobody else believes it though.’

She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one and I took it and we set off walking. We kept going until we came to the back wall of the quarry.

‘How far did he fall?’

I pointed.

‘Bloody hell.’

‘There’s talk about fencing it off at the bottom. So it can’t happen again.’

We didn’t stay there long. It made me feel sick. As we walked off I started telling her about Clifton and Oliver Thomas. She ended up coming into the house. We sat at the kitchen table and I carried on talking, I told her about it all. The two memories, everything I could think of, everything I could remember. Mum was in the room next door and must have known what was going on but she didn’t try and stop me.

After I’d seen Jake and Fiona I was ready. On the night I decided to go I went up to bed at the usual time but kept my clothes on. I left the light on in my room and crept out of the house at midnight when I was sure Mum would be asleep. It was a clear night, the stars clustering and bright. I walked to Lime Street and pushed a thank-you card through the letter box of number twelve as quietly as I could. Then I walked back to Eastham Street, the big houses sat at the top of their drives, as silent as monuments. I cut through the woods where I’d carried the furniture for the haunted house and headed for the quarry wall. There is a tall wire fence to keep people away from the sudden drop, but I’d done my research and knew where it had been cut, where I could squeeze through. As I pushed through the overgrowth I saw a Portakabin behind some trees I’d 
never
 seen before. I tried the door but it was locked. I sat near the lip of the quarry. I had a few cans with me and I drank for a couple of hours, not a silly amount, not like last time, just enough to make me woozy. It was a beautiful night, as calm and peaceful as any of my vanishings had ever been. I stood and walked to the edge of the drop and looked down into the thick blackness below. You couldn’t see the bottom, you couldn’t see anything down there and I started to feel dizzy. I stepped back. I thought about Jake and Oliver and decided I would try not to think about them any more. I looked over the quarry to our row of houses. I could see the light from my bedroom window, a small light, the only light on in any of the houses, and realised how easy it was to walk away. Already I was far enough away from her that I couldn’t hear, even if she shouted.

I’d filled my bag with clothes and I had some money I’d stolen from her purse. There wasn’t much, but it was enough to get me to where I wanted to go. The first bus would arrive in the city about half eight, so I left the quarry at six to make sure I didn’t miss it. There were three of us on the bus when we left 
Raithswaite
, but by the time we pulled into the bus station people were standing in the aisle, holding on to bars and trying not to fall into each other as we turned tight corners. It was a relief when we pulled to a final stop and the doors opened and the bus cleared. I had an hour before my next bus so I walked up and down the wide streets of the city centre. I felt much better than the last time I’d been there, but the place still scared me, and I kept getting in the way of people rushing along, striding hard, like they were racing each other. I tried to get out of everyone’s way but wherever I walked somebody wanted to get past, and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find my way back to the bus terminal, so I didn’t go too far, didn’t explore too much, didn’t want to miss the bus.

It was about a quarter to eleven when I knocked on his front door, but there was no reply, so I sat down against the house, waiting for him to return, hoping he hadn’t gone away on holiday. After a couple of minutes I heard a snipping sound, coming from the back of the house. I picked up my bag and walked to the side gate and listened again and could hear it clearly now. He was working in the garden. I clicked open the gate and walked down the side of the house and saw him in the far corner, on his knees, sleeves rolled up, working on some stems. ‘Mr Mole,’ I said. But I was nervous and too far away and he didn’t hear me, so I cleared my throat and spoke his name more loudly.

Thank you:

Antony Harwood, Julian Loose, Kate Murray-Browne, Alex Bowden, Jim Lee, James McGrath,​
Juliette
 Tomlinson and everyone at Faber.

Robert Williams grew up in Clitheroe, Lancashire and currently lives in Manchester. His first novel,
 
Luke and Jon
, won a Betty Trask Award, was translated into seven languages and called ‘a hugely impressive debut’ in the 
Daily Telegraph
. He has worked in a secondary school library, as a bookseller for Waterstones, and has written and released music under the name The Library Trust.