Dark Ride (6 page)

C
HAPTER
12

 

Is That You, Babe?

 

The lights were all on when I got back and I could hear quiet laughter from upstairs.

‘Mum?’

I took off my coat and slung it over the banister before peering up the stairs. Mum’s head bobbed over the top and she put a finger to her lips.

‘Shhh! The little one’s asleep on my bed,’ she hissed and promptly disappeared again.

Little one? Little what?

I clomped up the stairs. I didn’t need any more surprises after the day I’d had.

Mum and that Will bloke were squeezed into the tiny bathroom. He was holding a broken tap in his hand, looking sheepish. He nodded at me and I ignored him.

‘What’s going on?’ I said, sounding like a forty-year-old schoolteacher. I realised these were the exact words I’d spoken last time I’d seen them together.

Mum was all pink and twinkly.

‘Will was helping with the tap, but it seems to be in a worse state than we thought,’ she said, sounding supremely unbothered.

‘I’m not exactly a DIY whizz, in truth,’ said Will apologetically. ‘Look, I could run over to B&Q, but I don’t want to choose the wrong style of tap, and there’s Dylan. Mum’s at the doctor, or I’d ask her to watch him for a bit.’

Mum’s gaze bounced to me and then back to Will again.

‘Unless ...’ he began and she nodded encouragingly. ‘Unless Bel wouldn’t mind keeping an ear out for half an hour. Mum will be back soon. You could come with me then and choose the design you like.’

I was just about to open my mouth when Mum said, ‘Good idea! You’re old enough to do this now, Bel. We won’t be long.’

Before I’d even had time to scrape my eyebrows back into their proper position, they were bundling down the stairs and into coats.

‘Will Dylan sleep for long?’ said Mum, turning to Will, glowing like she was looking into the sun.

‘Should be out for ages,’ said Will, ‘but if he wakes up, maybe you could just tell him where we are and put the telly on for him?’

‘Fine,’ I said, feeling like I was spitting out stones and not words. ‘No problem. Off you go. Have a completely fabulous time.’

Honestly, they couldn’t get out that door fast enough. So I’m an unpaid babysitter now, I thought. They might be choosing a tap, but by the look on Mum’s face, it could just as well have been a candle-lit dinner for two.

Poor Dad. It wasn’t right. I would be giving him a full report when I saw him, for sure.

I poured myself some juice and sat down at the kitchen table, resting my head in my hands and making a curtain of my hair over my face. I almost didn’t have the energy to be angry with Mum.

It really had been a horrible, freaky day. I wanted to tell Mum, but knew if I did, she wouldn’t let me out the door again until I was at least thirty.

‘Where’s my daddy?’

The reedy little voice made me jump. Dylan was standing in the doorway, hair sticking up, face puffy and a scraggy toy dog dangling from his hand.

Oh dear.

‘He’s just popped out with my mum,’ I said, trying to sound cheerful, but I think I was baring my teeth – his eyes got more circular.

Never having had a brother or sister, I didn’t really know what to do with small kids. I mean, obviously I was one once, but I didn’t have that many friends when I was little. Mum says I was bossy and put people off, which was obviously a total lie.

I know Mum and Dad wanted me to have a brother or sister, but I think Mum had some sort of medical problem. Then, last year, she’d finally got pregnant.

It wasn’t long after Nan died. Mum and Dad had been so happy, despite Mum being sad about Nan and barfing all the time. And then one day I got home from school and Mum’s friend Lynne was there. She bundled me into the kitchen and told me that Mum had lost the baby. For a moment I didn’t understand and wanted to say, ‘Lost it where?’ but kept my gob shut for once. She was sleeping upstairs and I wasn’t to disturb her. For some reason they couldn’t get hold of Dad and it was late when he got back. I heard them rowing and Mum crying, then the door slamming.

Anyway.

So I know nothing about small kids. Just as long as he didn’t start crying it would all be fine.

‘Oh ... What’s the matter, Dylan?’

His face had scrunched up and although he wasn’t making any sound, tears were definitely imminent.

‘Don’t want you, stinky girl!’ He started to wail then at ear-splitting volume. ‘Want my daddy!’

I made shushy flapping movements with my hands, which only made him screech louder.

‘Hey, we’ve got crisps!’ I said desperately. ‘Do you like crisps, Dylan?’ Everyone likes crisps. He stopped wailing and gave a huge hiccup, before nodding suspiciously. I tried not to look at the slimy green trail dangling from his nose to his top lip as I went over to the cupboard and dug about to find the Unhappy Shopper Crappy Crisps Mum bought these days.

A few moments later, the kitchen was filled with hard munching. I had to keep my eyes away from his bogey trail, but I was starving because I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I decided a second packet was probably in order.

Dylan was swinging his feet backwards and forwards, his blue spotted socks hanging off the end and making his feet look about twice as long as they were. For some reason this seemed funny. We eyed each other as we ate our crisps. No one spoke.

It reminded me of when two gunslingers squared up to each other in old cowboy films and that music came into my head. I found myself pretending to pull a gun and aimed my crisp at him. He chortled, spraying cheese and onion shards across the table. He was quite cute when he smiled, despite all the grot on his face.

Not needing any more encouragement, he leapt up and started firing off shots with his fingers. I dived under the table, pulling the plastic tablecloth down to hide my face. He giggled like a mad thing and I could feel laughter rising inside me like froth as he ducked down and pointed his grinning face under the table.

Dylan shot out and ran into the living room. I got up from under the table and followed him. He was sitting under a pile of cushions on the sofa, his small feet poking out in a very obvious way.

‘Where can he be?’ I said in a loud, fakey voice and started to pull off the cushions slowly. The whole sofa was almost vibrating with his silent chuckles now and just as I got to the last one, he burst out like a cannonball, yelling at the top of his voice and charged up the stairs. I was getting a bit bored with this game now, to be honest, so I went back into the kitchen, wondering how long Mum and whatsisface were going to be.

The phone rang and I picked it up.

‘Steve?’ said a woman’s voice. ‘Is that you, babe?’

‘Who is this?’ I said.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ the woman sounded flustered. ‘He left his phone and I was ringing last number called because I thought he was...’

Icy water seemed to rush through me and I slammed the phone down. Why was some woman ringing here and asking for Dad? And calling him
babe?

It had to be a mistake. A wrong number. Steve wasn’t such an unusual name, was it?

Dylan, sensing the change in the atmosphere, came into the kitchen with his thumb in his mouth, his eyes wide.

‘Dylan, do you want to watch some telly now?’ I said shakily. To my relief he nodded.

I got on the sofa next to him and he shuffled his small, hot body next to me. It was weirdly comforting. We watched
Spongebob Squarepants
for a bit and I must have dropped off, because the next thing I knew, Mum and Will were smiling in the doorway of the living room. Dylan had his head on my lap, curled like a little prawn.

‘Everything been okay?’ she said.

‘Fine.’ I got up, hastily, making Dylan flop sideways. He sat up, looking bewildered. I didn’t want Mum entertaining ideas of me gaining a step-brother, however cute he was.

After dinner, I was curled up on the sofa thinking about everything that had happened earlier. I’d witnessed something horrible but I couldn’t stop going over the moment when we were sat together on the carousel. I caught my breath when I remembered the way Luka looked at me. For a crazy moment I’d actually thought he might be going to kiss me. The more likely explanation was that hanging around in that weird place was making my imagination do mad things.

Mum came into the room with a big B&Q bag. She was grinning a nervous sort of grin. ‘Hey, lazybones,’ she said. ‘How about getting off your bum and giving me a hand?’

She really had no idea how hard a day I’d had, but I swung my legs round and sat up. She pulled a large box out of the bag.

‘What’s that?’ I said, even though the words
4.5 feet Spruce Pine Artificial Tree
were clearly written in big letters on the side of the box.

‘It’s a Christmas tree,’ said Mum, her smile faltering. ‘Thought it was about time we made this house a bit more homely. We can decorate it together. Look, I even bought some —’

‘But it’s fake!’ I cut across her. ‘We always have a real tree.’

Mum had been hanging some tinsel around her neck and her arms fell to her sides.

‘I know that,’ she said patiently, ‘but we haven’t got the space now and this one will last for ever. Look, it’s quite nice! Very realistic, in fact.’ She pulled the green plasticky thing out of the box and set about getting it upright.

It did look realistic. You’d never have known it was fake if you had no sense of smell and no soul. It just wasn’t Christmas with a fake tree.

My eyes started to fill up. In that moment I’d have done anything to have a time machine that could take me back to London and my old life, with Dad there. Even if they were fighting, life there was better than this grotty place with scary men and lonely boys with lost eyes and mothers who didn’t even seem to care that they had killed Christmas stone dead.

Mum was staring at me. ‘Bel? What is it?’ She crawled over on her knees and I burst out crying. I just couldn’t stop it. Snot and tears were all down my face but she put her arms around me anyway. I wailed like a baby.

‘Oh Bel,’ she said softly, stroking my hair. ‘I know it’s been hard for you, moving here. And I know how much you’re missing your dad. But we’ll get used to it. It’ll be brilliant in the summer, being by the sea. Everything will be okay, honey, it really will.’

I stopped crying and took my hands away from my face. I knew my eyes had almost disappeared and my nose was still running but I didn’t care. ‘You’ve got to make Dad come for Christmas!’

She frowned. ‘Bel, it’s not as straightforward —’

‘You have to!’ I interrupted. ‘If you tell him you want him here too, he’ll come, I know he will.’

Mum sat back on her heels and studied my face for a long time. When she spoke again her voice was very quiet. ‘I know that you think this is all down to me. But there are complicated things I can’t really explain to you, grown-up things, and —’

‘You made him go, so don’t pretend you didn’t!’

Sometimes I find myself standing and shouting and can’t remember exactly how I got there. This was one of those times.

‘I know that’s what happened! It’s all your fault!’

Mum’s face hardened as she got to her feet too. ‘Bel, you know nothing about it.’

‘Then tell me then!’ I wailed.

Mum looked at me for a long, long time. When she spoke her voice was shaky. ‘It’s over between me and your dad, Bel,’ she said quietly. ‘We’re not going to be living here all together. You have to face that. The truth is that me and your dad, well, we’ve moved on. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.’

‘LIAR!’ I screamed. I was so close I could see my crazed reflection in her eyes. ‘It’s all your fault! You’re a liar and I hate you! I hate you!’

I felt the slap before my brain registered what had happened.

Mum gasped, like she couldn’t believe what she’d done. ‘Bel, wait!’ she shouted.

But I turned away and walked out of the room with as much dignity as I could muster. As I was leaving, I heard the Christmas tree slump sideways with a sound like a sigh.

C
HAPTER
13

 

Runaway

 

My bedroom door had an old-fashioned lock and key.

I took great satisfaction in hearing Mum wiggle the handle desperately. I didn’t go downstairs for the rest of the evening, just lay in bed snuffling until I could barely see through my puffy eyes.

I must have slept eventually because soon weak light was coming through my curtains and Mum was calling through my bedroom door.

‘Bel? Bel, are you awake?’ She rattled the handle. ‘Look, darling ... I’m so sorry I ... I slapped you. I will never, ever do it again, I promise. Bel?’

I ignored her and put my hands over my ears until I made out the muffled thump of the front door closing. I wasn’t prepared to hear any more of her poisonous lies.

Lying there in the unfriendly, empty house, I’d never felt so lonely. It was like there was nowhere I really belonged any more. I thought about going back to the fairground, which was about the only place I’d felt like me lately, despite all the strangeness. I wanted to see Luka, badly. But then I remembered the way we’d parted. Maybe he wouldn’t be pleased to see me and I didn’t think I could bear it if he told me to get lost. I was so sore inside already.

The only place I could imagine being was back in London, at Jasmine’s house. We’d always been able to make each other feel better about stuff. Within ten minutes I was stuffing clothes into my rucksack, trying to work out how long it would take to walk to the station and find a train back to London. I decided I’d ring Jasmine from the train. Or better still, surprise her.

I slowed down as I got to the end of the road and patted my pocket. There was forty pounds in there, saved from my birthday. I’d had an idea of saving up for an iPod, but that seemed stupid now. What use was an iPod when your family was in bits and your own mother hit you?

It was freezing today and my teeth were chattering a bit as I hurried along the road.

I walked for about fifteen minutes in the direction I thought I’d find the station. It was definitely around here somewhere ... maybe around the next corner. Or maybe just a bit further.

After a while I slowed down as the horrible realisation sunk in.

I’d somehow managed to get lost in this tiny, poxy town.

I stopped walking and let the rucksack fall to the ground, narrowly missing a clump of dog poo. I looked around at the quiet street and sighed heavily, leaning against a wall.

I put my head in my hands and tried to picture myself getting off the train at St Pancras station. I imagined all the busy, purposeful people stampeding past me. What did I really think would happen if I ran away? Jasmine’s mum would probably get straight on the phone to Mum the minute she saw me. I pushed myself away from the wall, heart like a brick. I decided I’d just go home and wrap myself in a duvet, eat biscuits and watch daytime TV. Maybe I could blank out the world for a while.

I didn’t have the energy to walk and dragged my weary bones to the nearest bus stop to check out where I was. Two women with buggies were waiting there and chatting. I must have looked a bit starey-eyed and mad because they shifted along slightly.

‘Can I get a bus back into town from here?’ I said, and one of them nodded.

‘Should be just a few minutes,’ she said.

‘Thanks,’ I mumbled and perched on the end of the bench.

The two women carried on their conversation, which cut into my numb thoughts.

‘I heard it wasn’t coming down for another six months,’ said one.

‘Seems they’ve brought the schedule forward,’ said the other woman. ‘My cousin knows someone who works for McAllistair. It’s going at the end of January.’

‘Sooner they do it, the better,’ said the first woman. ‘That fairground is an eyesore, if you ask me. You know what they say about it, don’t you?’

The other woman snorted. ‘I can’t believe you’d fall for that nonsense!’

‘People hear things though! And how do you explain the fact that there are sometimes lights in there?’

‘I tell you, if that old dump is haunted, then I’m Lady Gaga!’ said the other woman. They both burst out laughing.

My thoughts were churning around my head like clothes in a tumble dryer.

Hardly surprising that the fairground had a weird reputation. But I was more worried about the other thing they’d said. Luka wouldn’t know that he only had a month left to live in the fairground. I pictured a huge pile of rubble. What would happen to him then? Maybe he’d leave Slumpton and move on somewhere else to look for Eva. The thought of never seeing him again was suddenly so awful I sank back against the hard plastic seat in a way that made the two mothers stare at me. I had to see him again, even if he was funny with me after yesterday.

The bus appeared and the doors opened with a loud hiss. The women clambered on with all their stuff but I just stood there.

‘You getting on or what?’ said the driver.

‘Do you go anywhere near Sunshine Park?’ I asked.

The driver nodded. ‘Get a move on, if you’re coming.’

I used one of my tickets to get through the gates. I shivered as I looked around, thinking about the violence we’d witnessed yesterday. I felt a spasm of guilt about not going to the police. I’d pounced on what Luka had said because I was scared, but it wasn’t right to let something like that happen and not be reported, was it?

I was getting colder and colder standing there so I decided to just put one foot in front of the other until I found Luka.

I walked further into the fairground, but I only found his sleeping bag by the carousel. I bent down and touched the thin, shiny material.

The wind whistling through all the boarded-up places made the back of my neck prickle but I forced myself to go on, trying not to look at the ghost train.

Before long, the entrance to the old rollercoaster soared above me. It looked about four hundred years old. I shivered at the thought of rattling along in the rusty-looking carriages. Dad would have been on there like a shot. He thought I loved these rides too, but secretly I’d rather have stayed with Mum down on the ground and eaten candyfloss. Not that I was ever going to admit it.

Towards the back of the fairground there was a low row of stalls with a roof and shutters along the front. A flaky sign on the roof read,
Munch Zone
and there was a picture of a huge open mouth with a big red tongue. It made me feel as though the mouth wanted to eat me too. There was something about this place that just blew up fears like a big magnifying glass.

At that moment, I heard a noise and spun round.

Luka was sitting up high on the side of the rollercoaster staring straight ahead. I couldn’t read his face at all. He looked like he’d been there for ages. Suddenly he got up and started to climb further up the metal struts. My heart began to thud as I ran over. He glanced down, but it was like he didn’t see me at all.

‘What are you doing? Come down, Luka! You’ll get hurt!’ I shouted. But he just carried on climbing. A big gust of wind blew a sheet of cardboard into the air and it whooshed towards Luka. I screamed. He batted it away but slipped, so that he ended up on his knees on the narrow ledge.

‘Luka!’ I was scared to breathe, as though I might somehow make him fall and I was shaking hard now with fear as I watched him heave himself upright again. He looked down at me finally, the wind pushing his black hair back from his face in a fan.

‘What are you doing?’ I screamed.

He said something back but the wind just whisked it away.

‘What did you say?’

‘I’ve been figuring some things out,’ he yelled. ‘I have to
know.
I’m sorry, Bel.’

And then he started to climb higher. I shouted until my throat ached. I wondered if I should run back to the seafront to find help, but I couldn’t bear to move in case it was just my willpower alone that was keeping him from falling.

Soon he’d got to the top of the first support. There was a flat ledge and I gasped with relief that he was standing on something solid.

Then he did the worst thing I’ve ever seen. He closed his eyes, put his arms out to the sides ... and stepped off the edge into thin air.