Wildwood (YA Paranormal Mystery) (2 page)

Emma went to her room and came back dragging a new pink suitcase, with a matching backpack slung over her shoulder. Todd stuffed the last of his things into a sports bag. He'd already packed most of his clothes before he went swimming, but he hadn't told Mum. He'd still hoped she'd let him stay home.

Todd carried Emma's suitcase downstairs, then ran up and fetched his own bags. Emma linked her arms around his middle and hugged him. "I'll miss you. I hope Grandpa can tell you lots of stuff about Dad."

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping. Call me if you need to talk about the dreams." Todd smiled at his sister. But a shiver of foreboding raced through him. Grandpa had invited him to stay every summer since Dad disappeared, yet his sixth sense had kept Todd away. In the back of his mind, the same old warning bells chimed, but if Todd was ever going to piece together the puzzle of where his father had gone, it made sense to start looking in Dad's childhood home.

Chapter Two

Warm air carrying the smell of the sea rushed in the open windows of the taxi. The vehicle wound its way down a hill towards the small fishing village of Porthallow. As they turned the final bend into the village, Todd had a scenic view of the small slate-roofed, whitewashed cottages against a backdrop of the steely-gray Atlantic Ocean.

A massive gnarled oak tree stood beside a patch of grass, shading a bench where people could sit and take in the view. Two mean-looking guys leaned against the tree trunk in the shade, eyeing him sullenly. Todd's hunter's senses usually picked up the feel of the people and wildlife around him and hummed quietly in the background of his mind, but at the sight of these guys, his instincts screamed in warning. It would be just his luck to come three hundred miles to Cornwall and still be picked on by bullies.

The taxi driver cursed and stopped behind a row of traffic as they reached the first of the shops lining the main street. The narrow road was partly taken up by a silver Mercedes sports car parked half on the sidewalk, half on the road. A crowd of people blocked the rest of the street.

Todd pulled out the earphones of his iPod and poked his head and shoulders out the car window, straining to see what was happening. A man in a gray suit jabbed his finger at the sports car and shouted something about his paint job, while a man wearing jeans and a t-shirt with tattoos on his biceps faced up to him as if he was about to throw a punch.

A woman with curly blonde hair rushed out of a shop door and grabbed the tattooed guy's arm. After a few more angry words, the owner of the sports car drove away, tires squealing.

When the traffic started to move again, a tall boy who looked to be about Todd's age slunk out from the shadows between two cottages and headed down the road. Within a few seconds, the tattooed guy was on him, dragging the kid back to the gift shop by his collar. Todd only needed one guess to know who'd scratched the Merc. He wouldn't want to be in that boy's shoes.

"Here we are," the taxi driver said as he bumped two wheels onto the sidewalk and cut the engine.

Todd stared at the front of a small convenience store occupying the ground floor of one of the whitewashed cottages. He grabbed his backpack and climbed out.

Unfolding money from his wallet, he watched the driver dump his sports bag on the ground and then paid his fare.

"Thanks, kid. Enjoy yourself."

The driver wedged his big belly back behind the steering wheel, then the vehicle disappeared down the road.

A tingling awareness seared across Todd's senses, something he'd never felt before. He glanced around to see what could be causing it. The shop front was the same as others all over the country with its orange sunburst special-offer posters in the window, a rack of newspapers beside the door, and a selection of cut flowers in a plastic bin.

His gaze rose to the block of ancient granite above the door. A spooky face with empty eye sockets and branches growing out of its mouth was carved in the stone. He recognized it as a Green Man. There were quite a few dotted around Feltsham Manor, and he'd seen faces like this inside a cathedral once when he went on a school trip. It was an old pagan symbol from years ago.

Some strange compulsion made him raise a hand to touch the face, but at the last minute he thought better of it. With a shiver, Todd hefted his bag and stepped through the door into the cool interior of the shop. Narrow aisles ran between shelves crammed with packets, cans, jars, and boxes. Freezers hummed in the background, their fluorescent lights lending the shop a surreal, blue-white glow.

"Todd!"

The shout drew Todd's attention to the checkout at the far end of the room. The tall gray-haired form of his grandfather came into view at the end of an aisle. Todd hadn't seen Grandpa since the memorial service his mother had held for Dad. That had been a terrible day, and Todd had only gone to keep his mum happy. He was convinced his dad wasn't dead, but nobody except Emma believed him.

Grandpa angled his bulky body down the narrow walkway and headed towards Todd. They hugged awkwardly, and Grandpa slapped Todd on the back. "Look at you, growing like a weed. You'll be taller than your dad."

And there it was, that word "dad" casually thrown into the conversation during his first few seconds with Grandpa. Mentioning Dad at home had become a mortal sin, sure to anger Philippe and upset Mum. He wanted to be able to talk about his dad and ask questions. Maybe he'd been wrong to put off visiting Grandpa for so long.

"Come on." Grandpa took the bag from Todd's hand and led the way around the counter where people lined up to pay, then through a door into the private area. Todd scanned the small living room with a kitchen at the far end. Through the windows he noticed a conservatory filled with greenery, and gulls wheeling against the blue sky beyond.

"Have a good trip?" Grandpa asked.

"Yeah, thanks." Todd pulled out his mobile phone. "I'd better call Mum and tell her I arrived safely."

"You'll have to use the landline. There's no mobile phone reception in Porthallow, I'm afraid."

Freaking wonderful
. Todd sighed. He already knew Grandpa didn't have a computer so that meant no computer and no phone for six whole weeks.

Grandpa eyed him with curiosity, maybe a touch of worry. "You tired, lad?"

"A little."

"Hungry though, I'll bet." Grandpa pointed towards the bottom of the staircase. "Let's get you settled in, and I'll rustle up some grub."

"Sounds good." Todd was hungry, although another feeling he didn't recognize had his stomach in knots, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to eat yet.

Grandpa led him upstairs to a small bedroom containing a single bed, a chest of drawers, and a narrow wardrobe. Todd swallowed his dislike of the flowery curtains and wallpaper and dropped his backpack on the bed.

"Like it?" Grandpa asked.

"Yeah, cool." Todd tried to sound enthusiastic as he walked to the little window that overlooked the street where he'd arrived. His view stretched down to the corner at the bottom of the road and up past the gift shop where he'd seen the tattooed guy.

"I know it's probably not like your room at home. Hope you can tolerate the flowery décor for a few weeks, though."

Todd smiled, suddenly feeling guilty for his lack of enthusiasm. After all, if Grandpa hadn't agreed to put him up for the holidays, he'd now be on his way to France to meet Philippe's family. He'd rather let the Goss brothers knock him around than spend six weeks in France with Philippe. "It's great. I'll only be in the room when it's dark, anyway."

"Good lad. That's the spirit. Get out and explore." Grandpa slapped him on the shoulder and headed for the door. "Unpack, then come on down and we'll eat. Steak and kidney pie and mashed potatoes sound tempting?"

Todd's spirits lifted a little at the sound of that. Philippe cooked fancy French stuff that Todd didn't like. The chance for some real food made his mouth water.

When Grandpa reached the door, he turned and rested his hand on the frame. "You know, lad, if you ever want to talk about your dad, I'm always here. Just say the word." Then he cleared his throat. "Come down when you're ready. I'll get the grub started."

After his grandfather went downstairs, Todd stared at the empty doorway. If there was any chance his dad was still alive, and could be found, Grandpa was the person to ask. More than anything in the world, Todd wanted his father to come home.

***

The following morning, Todd woke early and spent an hour swimming back and forth across the tiny harbor until the cold penetrated his muscles.

Grandpa made him eat a cooked breakfast of eggs, bacon, and sausage, then Todd took a hot shower and finally got the feeling back in his fingers and toes. He'd have to think of another way to keep fit while he was in Cornwall, because he wasn't doing that again.

As he dressed, he watched the people on the street outside his window. The boy he'd seen the day before crept out of the gift shop, shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, and slouched off down the hill.

Todd yanked on his socks and trainers before racing down the stairs two at a time. He passed his grandpa in the shop and said, "See you later. I'm going to look round."

"Lunch at one."

"Okay."

Todd reached the shop door just in time to see the boy duck between two cottages at the bottom of the road. Todd dodged around a family with twins in a double stroller and ran down the sidewalk to catch up. The kid didn't look very friendly, but he was the only person his own age he'd seen so far.

When he reached the alley between the cottages, he paused to check it out, then cautiously walked into the shadows. As he neared the patch of sunlight at the end of the buildings, the smell of cigarettes stung his nose.

The boy leaned against the wall of a broken-down shed, a haze of blue smoke around his head. He didn't appear to have heard Todd yet. "Hey," he said.

The boy jumped visibly, a scowl chasing away his surprise. "Who're you?"

"Todd. I've just arrived to spend the summer with my grandpa." He rested his shoulder against the cottage wall and tried to look casual. "Saw you come down here and thought I'd say hi. What's your name?"

The boy took a drag on his cigarette and examined Todd before he answered. "Andrew," he offered grudgingly.

"What happened to that Merc yesterday?"

"It belongs to some real uptight guy. Mum's boyfriend is always on at him not to park on the sidewalk, so I keyed the Merc to stir things up a bit." A grin flashed across Andrew's face. "Worked like a charm."

"You don't like your mum's boyfriend?"

Andrew tossed down his cigarette and ground it beneath his heel. "Kelvin Marks is a complete dickhead."

Todd would never vandalize a car like that, but he and Andrew did have something in common. "My mum's boyfriend's the same."

"Yeah." Andrew relaxed back against the shed and studied Todd with more interest. "Where's your dad?"

Todd shrugged and stubbed the toe of his boot in the dirt. "Don't know."

"Mine's in Dubai setting up a computer system. I live with him normally, but he's left me here for six months. I hate this place. There's nothing to do and the people are pretty weird, especially my—"

Andrew was interrupted by a woman's voice shouting his name close by.

He swore, flapping his jacket as if to get rid of the smoky smell. "Later," he threw over his shoulder as he slouched away.

Todd followed Andrew back to the street and watched him walk up the road with the blonde woman from the gift shop. He hadn't got the chance to ask if there was anyone else his age in the village, but he was used to being on his own. He never told anyone at school about his hunter's radar, but the other kids seemed to know he was different.

He wandered down to the small harbor where he'd swum earlier. The tide had gone out and two fishing boats were now drawn up on the pebbles. Frayed lengths of orange and blue rope littered the beach along with lumps of tar and smelly pieces of fish that attracted squabbling gulls.

For a while, Todd watched a fisherman sluice down his deck and toss scraps to the gulls. When he grew bored of that, he collected some flat stones and started skimming them across the calm surface of the water.

"Is that the best you've got?"

The girl's voice right behind him took him by surprise and he jerked his head around. His father had taught him he should always know who and what was around, yet he hadn't sensed her. But there she stood, tall and willowy, wearing a straw hat decorated with marigolds and a long yellow dress, her blonde hair rippling slightly in the breeze.