What We Saw (14 page)

Read What We Saw Online

Authors: Ryan Casey

Tags: #Mystery, #debut, #Contemporary, #nostalgic, #drama, #coming-of-age, #Suspense, #childhood, #Thriller, #General Fiction

BOOK: What We Saw
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‘Do you ever get that feeling where you want to say so much to someone but there isn’t really anyone to say it to?’ she asked. She messed with her hair and avoided looking at me.

‘Sort of. I dunno. Me and Adam talk about a lot of stuff. He doesn’t say a lot, but when he does, it helps him. So that’s good, really.’

‘No, I mean you, Liam,’ Emily said. She moved closer to me. I could feel the warmth coming off her body now as her breath touched my lips.

I thought about what she’d said. And that’s when I realised I was all alone. Donald had been someone I could talk to every now and then, and sometimes he even understood what was going on without actually saying anything. It was nice to have an adult around who took things seriously and didn’t have any problems of their own to deal with.

‘Well, it’s hard. It’s hard because Adam’s lost his parents. I don’t want to sound nasty but… it’s so hard keeping all happy all the time for him. And Gran and Granddad have lost their daughter too, so they have big problems. It’s as if I can’t really talk because it doesn’t really matter. I’m just sort of here to help everyone stay happy.’

Emily reached for my hand, slipping her fingers through my knuckles. I shuddered and nearly pulled away. It felt nice but a part of me wanted to escape. ‘Well, I want you to know that if you ever need to talk to anyone about anything, your mum and dad, or whatever… I want you to know that I’m here for you,’ she said.

That was when I kissed her. My neck pulled itself forward. I kept my eyes open and so did she. We stared at each other, connected by the mouth. It felt weird, kissing someone. It was a lot messier than it seemed to be on the telly.

I pulled away, stood up, and scratched my stomach. My hands sweated and my heart raced. I had to leave. I felt like I’d done something wrong. This changed everything. I don’t know how Adam would react or anybody. A part of me wished it hadn’t happened, even though it felt so nice. Emily stayed sitting, looking up at me.

‘Sorry, I… I shouldn’t, I should probably go back to—erm…’

Emily stood up and put her arms around me. She pulled herself to my body and rested her head on my chest. ‘Thank you, Liam. It’s good to know somebody cares.’

I thought about asking her about the bruises again, but the moment was too perfect, her soft breaths rising and falling towards my chest.

We stayed like this for a few moments, the wind blowing her hair towards my mouth. I didn’t want to ruin the moment, but I kept having to spit it out. I felt something cold tap my nose and my right hand: rain. ‘We should probably, erm,’ I said, edging towards the shelter outside the launderette.

‘Oh shut up, Liam O’Donnell,’ Emily said, looking up at my lips and grinning, her tongue peeking through the little gap in her teeth. ‘Stop ruining the romance, you goon.’

We stood in the rain for a few minutes before even Emily agreed we should probably move. Gran would go mad if she saw my blue hoodie had been soaked. She always had a go at us when we stayed out in the rain.
‘You might be having a bloody laugh, but I’ve got to dry this mess,’
she’d say, holding it up in front of her, before handing it to Granddad to pop on a hanger.

As we stood under the shelter of the launderette, watching dog walkers scurry past and cars leave the site, I noticed we were silent again. I should probably read one of those magazines and learn how best to talk to girls. Was Emily my girlfriend now? Or did I need to ask her out? Did it even matter?

My heart pumped against my chest. I thought for a moment it was about to break out like that creature in that Alien film. I accidentally walked in on that scene while my dad was watching it, and I didn’t sleep for days. Every time my heart picked up I thought I was going to die. I even wrote a will for my friends and family, just in case.

I stood there and held hands with Emily. I looked at her arm. It was pale and bony and wasn’t the sort of arm that saw much sunlight, a bit like Adam’s. My own skin was more of a bronze colour, and Emily’s arm looked white next to mine.

I looked at Emily’s face. Her eyes stared ahead. Her hair was tucked behind her ear and her collarbone rose like a mountain from her chest. I’d never properly noticed how skinny she was before. I wasn’t sure whether she had lost weight or whether I’d been too blind to see it, but she was definitely skinnier than other girls her age. Maybe this was something she was upset about. I’d never thought to ask.

‘Are you upset about the bruises?’

Emily turned towards me, breaking her stare. She looked at me, her eyes dancing from side to side around my face. She licked her lips, went slightly pink, and looked as if she were about to explode like a malfunctioning machine.

‘What do you… what do you mean upset?’ she asked. She tried to smile and swept her hair back.

I stared straight into her eyes. I wanted to look as serious as I could. I didn’t speak.

‘I… well, they are nothing, really. Everyone gets bruises, right?’

Her eyes flickered away from me again, her smile twitching. I didn’t say anything, just stared. I wasn’t sure what to say. She knew I knew she was lying. She raised her hand to her mouth and scratched at her lips. She usually did this before she jumped into the swimming pool, when she was nervous.
Was I being too mean?

Emily broke the gaze, glancing at my feet and up my body. When our eyes met again, I could see they were watering. She exhaled a long, deep breath. ‘Liam, I don’t know whether I can, you know, talk about it yet.’ She spoke as if she had been possessed. This wasn’t the fun-loving, smiley Emily I knew and who Adam flirted with. She didn’t even try to smile. She folded her arms and shifted her eyes from side to side, every little noise catching her attention.

‘That’s okay,’ I said. ‘As long as you know I’m here when you do want to talk.’ The words sounded funny coming from my mouth. I felt like an adult. Maybe this is what being an adult was, after all. I hoped not. I quite liked hunting for ghosts and solving murders.

She turned back to me, smiled, and nodded. She looked more like Emily again. Seeing her like she was before made me a bit uncomfortable. I became aware of a rustling somewhere in the trees in front of us. At first I shrugged it off as a bird, but it almost sounded like footsteps. I scanned the area and spotted him. I should’ve guessed he’d be here.

‘Sorry to interrupt your conversation, lovers,’ he said, skipping towards us now. Adam had a cruel grin on his face, like the time he’d made me get out of the pool when he’d stolen my swimming trunks.

‘It’s okay, we were just about to head back,’ I said. I avoided eye contact with him.

Adam put his hands on either side of his navy Nike t-shirt. ‘Ah, that’s good, but you’re not going back yet,’ he smiled, completely blanking Emily. ‘I think you should come out from hiding and go tell Kenny how sorry you are for trashing his garden.’

My body sank towards the ground. I knew he’d find a means of revenge; I knew it. I shook my head and clenched my teeth together as he stood there, smirking.

Chapter Seventeen

Kenny told me I had to pick up every single piece of litter spread across his garden. He sat perched on his step, newspaper in his wrinkly hands. He wore green shorts that looked like they’d shrunk in the wash, and he didn’t seem to notice the rain. His nostril hairs poured out of the end of his nose like an untrimmed hedge, and his ears were filled with brown wax.

‘I don’t understand why, Liam,’ he kept saying. ‘I know kids can be kids, but I don’t understand why me? What have I ever done to you or your family? It’s just not on.’

Adam stood with his arms folded next to Kenny. He shook his head from side to side and sighed as I looked at him. He was loving this. I dunked my fingers in ready-meal containers from days ago, the mouldy mush wedging itself between my nails. I heaved as the liquid food dribbled down the side of my hand, the smell of mouldy banana skin ripe in my nostrils. I wanted to tell Kenny who was really to blame, but that would be no good for either of us, not yet.

After half an hour of collecting Granddad’s pie tins and blackened banana peels, Kenny popped his head out from his paper, scratched his chin, and stuck his thumb in the air. ‘Right you, I think you’ve done a decent enough job. On your way.’ He turned back to his paper and waited for us to leave. Adam looked at Kenny, crinkling his eyebrows together.

‘Aren’t you going to tell on me?’ I asked, echoing what Adam was thinking.

Kenny stood up and patted me on the shoulder. ‘I don’t see a need for that,’ he said, smiling. ‘You’ve made a mistake, and you’ve cleaned up the mess. We’re even, so I don’t see why I should make a big deal of things. Isn’t that right, Adam?’ Kenny and I looked at Adam.

He sighed and muttered something under his breath. ‘I suppose,’ he said, his figure slumping.

‘Right then, off you trot. Next time you decide to throw stuff across my garden, make it something nice, like models dipped in honey!’

Kenny grinned as I tried not to cringe.

At least he’d taken it in good humour. His wife used to like me. She always used to give me Uncle Joe’s sweets and rub my arms with her hard hands. I wondered if her hands were still hard, underneath the earth. I wondered if Adam’s parents’ hands were hard.

And the girl’s hands.

*

We didn’t talk at all on the way back. In fact, Adam and I didn’t talk much that night. It was only when we sat in our bedroom, after Gran made her cocoa and Granddad finished reading the paper, that he finally opened his mouth and said something worth listening to.

‘So, aren’t you gonna ask me what I found out, honey?’ he asked, lazing across his white bed sheets like a seductress from a Bond movie. I could tell he was taking the piss out of me and Emily. He had this weird way of getting under my skin. Sometimes, I wanted to throttle him.

‘What d’you mean, found out?’ I said, tutting.

Adam sat up on the edge of his bed. He swayed his feet towards my bed and kicked gently enough to stay quiet but hard enough to make it impossible for me to get comfortable.
Little dick.
I sat up and kicked his leg, hard.

‘Bastard! Well if you don’t wanna know what I found out, that’s fine, I’ll deal with it myself,’ he said, rubbing at his thigh and leaning back in mock pain.

‘So you just expect me to start talking to you like normal again?’

Adam squinted towards me and screwed up his face. ‘Hang on a minute—it was you who ran off with your girlfriend instead of helping me out today. It was you that made me look like an idiot. You loved being the hero. So I had to do something about it, didn’t I? I’m always cleaning up your mess…’

He tutted when he said those last words. It’s what I always said to him when he’d got into a fight with a stranger or whatever other trouble he seemed to get himself into. The smile at the corner of his mouth said it all: he was toying with me and loving it.

Adam wouldn’t budge. He refused to tell me what he’d ‘found out,’ and I suspected that he hadn’t actually found anything out at all. It wound me up. I knew I bailed on him this morning but our friend needed us.
My girlfriend needs me.
Strange thought. Now that she was my girlfriend, not much was really different. Instead of just smiling at each other we were kissing and holding hands, and that was about it.

‘I’ll tell you about my day if you tell me what you got up to, lover boy,’ Adam said, poking his finger through a hole he’d formed with his thumb and other index finger.

‘Oh fuck off, Adam. It’s not like that,’ I said.

‘So you didn’t sex her then?’

I blushed. I hadn’t really thought about Emily in that way. It seemed weird. ‘I think you still have a lot to learn about all that stuff, and I’m not gonna be the one to teach you.’

‘Well, who is? Granddad?’

I let out a little laugh at the thought of Granddad trying to explain the process of sex to Adam. Adam’s confused, nodding head stringing him along, playing innocent, trying to get him to indulge the details that he already knew everything about.

Adam joined in the chuckling, falling back onto his pillow. This was how all our arguments usually ended, not like on TV where adults ‘made up’ and shook hands. Adam and I found something funny to laugh about, got bored of being miserable, rolled our sleeves up and moved on.

After a few seconds of laughter, Adam told me everything Kenny had told him about Donald.

That’s when the laughter stopped.

Adam had begun giving Kenny a hand clearing up the mess when Kenny asked him whether he still saw a lot of Donald. Kenny told Adam that Donald was a great man. Adam had been fed the bait, so he tugged at it, saying that we did still sometimes go round to Donald’s cabin, but not as much lately. That he’d been acting weird and if Kenny knew why this might be.

‘And that’s when he told me that he didn’t want to spread rumours, but Donald had lost someone close to him not so long back.’

The words hit my ears like loud music. Donald had lost someone. That’s what he’d been telling people. That’s what the ring was all about—his loss. That’s why Granddad hugged him. He had the whole caravan site tricked into sympathising with him, but Adam and I knew that he was a killer. We saw him drag a girl into the woods and bury her. Why would a man do that if he’d just lost someone close to him?

‘His story doesn’t add up,’ I said.

Adam looked back at me, unsure. ‘But it sort of does. I mean, maybe this girl was a relative or something.’

‘Seriously, Adam—what relative gets dragged into a derelict part of the woods and booted into a grave like that?’

Adam looked reluctant. He knew what I was getting at. Gran and Granddad wouldn’t have done that to his mum, buried her in that way. Adam wouldn’t want that. No one would.

‘So you think he’s using this sympathy thing as like, a cover?’ I asked.

Adam shrugged and raised his eyebrows, tellingly. It felt like we were actually getting somewhere now. Adam’s reaction surprised me. He seemed more reluctant about things than usual. He wasn’t talking quite as much. Maybe this was the difference between a good detective and an excellent detective after all; the good detective was always too eager to move on to the next case, while the excellent detective pursued all the answers right to the end.

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