Now You See Me (19 page)

I hold my hand out to Alice for the rest of the pack. She glances at her brother, then scowls and hands it over. I shuffle the deck and divide it into three, conscious of Danny watching me. My skin feels hot under his gaze, exposed and prickly.

“You go first, sis,” Danny smiles across at Alice.

She doesn't look at him as she lays a card on the table. I place one on top, trying to focus on the game. Only my head is buzzing with confusion and it's hard to pay attention.

Danny lays a card, and we go through several rounds without a match. Alice keeps her eyes fixed firmly on the growing pile, her little face fierce with concentration.

“Snap!” she shouts, as she smacks down a three of spades. She pulls the cards towards her with a proud expression, trying to gather them up into a neat stack. It takes ages, Alice's natural clumsiness making her struggle to hold them all in place.

I glance at Danny. He's watching her, that smile fixed on his face, but underneath I see him fighting to hide his impatience.

“Ready!” Alice throws down a card with a grin of challenge. Round and round we go. Danny lays a six of hearts. I cover it with a four of diamonds, and Alice puts a four of clubs on top.

“Snap!” Danny slaps his hand on the pile before Alice gets a chance to even register the pair.

Alice bites her lip and stares at the table.

I raise my eyebrows at Danny as he claims the cards, hoping he'll pick up on my meaning. Give Alice a bit of leeway, I'm trying to say. Make allowances for the fact she's slower than the rest of us.

Danny kicks off the next round and we play till half the pack is on the table.

“Snap!”

Danny grabs the cards again and places them underneath the pile in his hand. I can see Alice only has a few left. I nudge his foot under the table, but he ignores me.

We carry on till Alice is down to her last card. The five of diamonds. I peek at mine and sneak out a five of hearts, laying it down slowly so she gets a good look.

“
Snap!
”

There's triumph in Danny's expression as he grabs the remaining pile. Alice glares at him and bursts into tears.

“Hate you!” she screams, spittle forming at the corners of her mouth. “Go away, go away, GO AWAY!”

“What?” Danny says, looking first at his sister then at me.

I chew my lip and shrug. What can I say?

He glares at both of us for a few more seconds, then flings down the pack. Cards scatter and skid across the table, several falling to the floor.

“Sod this!” He rises from his chair so fast it nearly topples over. He glowers at Alice before turning and slamming upstairs.

I look back at his sister. She folds her arms on the table and buries her head, shoulders heaving with sobs.

Is this why Martha asked me to babysit? I wonder, seizing on the source of my unease. Doesn't Martha trust her own son any more?

The moment the thought unfolds into words, I know it's true. And more. On its heels a question I really don't want to face.

Do I trust Danny any more?

Just asking myself this leaves my breath catchy and raw. After all, Danny is…was…my best friend. Next to Mum…and Dad…the person I was once closest to in the whole world.

I cuddle Alice until she calms down, then help her stack the cards, one by one, into a new pile. My mind flashes back to all the other games Danny and I used to play. Ludo and Monopoly and Mousetrap, and that one where you have to guess who the murderer was. Back then, Alice was way too little to join in, but she loved to sit and watch, cheering and waving her arms in the air whenever either of us won.

Yet here we are. Alice and I alone in the living room, Danny lurking up in his room. How on earth did this happen? Has Danny really changed so much?

Have we?

As Alice hands me the pack to shuffle, it hits me. No matter how difficult this is for us – for Alice, for Martha, for me, for everyone – it has to be worse for Danny. What if something terrible happened, something so bad it changed everything? Something so awful you couldn't bear even to remember it. And then, when you finally made it home, everyone expected you to be the same. To act like nothing was ever wrong.

Wouldn't anyone find it hard to fit in? To be normal? To be just like they were?

All this churns around my mind as we start another game. But this time I make sure Alice wins almost every round.

“Snap!” She slams her card on top of mine right at the moment the phone rings. “Me,” Alice says, getting up and lifting the receiver with a determined look. Recently she's insisted on answering every call.

“Alice,” she says brightly into the mouthpiece. Her grown-up voice.

“Who is it?” I whisper when she doesn't say anything more. I'm hoping it's no one important.

She ignores me, moving the receiver closer to her ear.

“Who is it?” I hiss more insistently.

But Alice just stands there, listening as if mesmerized. I get up and prise the phone from her hands and lift it to my ear. “Hello?”

The line goes dead.

I look at Alice. “Who was it, Ally? Do you know?”

“Nobody,” she shrugs, sitting down and picking up her cards.

“Was it Mummy?”

“No.”

“Daddy?”

“I says nobody.” She thrusts out her bottom lip in a way that tells me to drop it.

I check for the dial tone, then punch in 1471, but an electronic voice says the number is unavailable. Maybe someone misdialled, but I can't help thinking about those prank calls. Paul tried again to have them traced, back when Martha insisted they were from Danny. But he got nowhere. And they dwindled to almost nothing soon after.

When was the last one? I think back. When Martha went away to get Danny. At least that's the last time I know of.

Could they somehow be connected?

But that didn't make sense. If they were from Danny, he would hardly have rung after being picked up in Paris. Or now. It had to be someone mucking about after all.

“Hannah, come on.” Alice looks impatient.

I sit back down and lay a card on top of hers, studying Alice's face as she loses herself in the rhythm of the game. It's easy to underestimate her, I think, to assume she isn't as aware of stuff as other kids her age.

But lately, I have the feeling Alice knows far more than she's letting on.

“Snap!” she yells with a grin. “Beat you!”

I look down, and see she's taken all my cards. I smile.

This time I didn't even have to let her win.

At lunchtime I spot Joe, sitting alone on the bank up by the sports hall. He's not reading, nor watching the impromptu football match on the tennis courts, but hunched over, staring into the distance.

“I'll catch you later,” I tell Lianna and Maisy.

“Where are you off to?” Lianna asks as I stuff my lunch box back into my bag.

“I need to talk to Joe.” I nod in his direction, see Maisy start to smirk. “It's
nothing
like that.” I sigh. “I just want to ask him something.”

Even so, I know they're both watching me as I walk over. It makes me feel ridiculously self-conscious, and for a moment I consider giving up on the whole idea. But Joe sees me approaching and swings round, shielding the sun from his eyes with his hand.

“Hannah Radcliffe,” he says with mock gallantry. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I smile. “Mind if I join you?”

“By all means.” He shifts his rucksack aside so I can drop down onto the grass beside him. I make sure I don't even glance towards my friends.

“So, what's up?” asks Joe, obviously curious as to why I'm here. It's not like he and I have ever been friends – we only know each other through Danny.

“Nothing really,” I say, trying to think how to begin. But Joe beats me to it, nodding towards a small group over by the sports hall. I squint into the sun. See Danny and Dean Simpson chatting to Alison Heppall and a couple of Year Twelve girls.

“Danny looks on good form,” Joe says. “He's a regular charmer these days, isn't he?”

I nod, watching Danny slouch casually against the wall, the girls leaning in, vying for his attention.

“That was quite a performance in French, wasn't it?” Joe continues. “Old Richards certainly met his match.”

I smile at the memory. I can't believe Danny had the nerve. People are still talking about it a week later.

“Danny one, Mr Richards nil,” Joe says. “No need for extra time.”

I keep wondering how Danny pulled it off. How he seems to take every subject in his stride since he came back – even things he was rubbish at before. Did he go to school somewhere else? Study by himself?

“I guess he's the closest thing this school has to famous,” Joe sighs, his eyes locked on the little group. “At this rate he's going to end up a bloody legend.”

It's true Danny's return has caused quite a stir. Though only the older kids can actually remember him, even the younger ones know what happened. And despite only being back a couple of weeks, Danny's already in with the likes of Dean and Alison – people everyone agrees are somehow cooler than the rest of us.

Looking at the three of them now, laughing and nudging each other, you'd think they'd been friends for ever.

“I wanted to ask,” I say, “if he's talked to you at all?”

“You're joking, aren't you?” Joe snorts, snapping off a length of grass. “I've been sat here trying to work out what on earth I might have done.”

I look at him. “How do you mean?”

“I don't know,” he shrugs. “I'm just wondering why he's avoiding me. He's barely spoken to me since the party.” He whistles, shaking his head slowly. “I said hello the other day and he walked right past. It's doing my head in. All that stuff we did together, and he acts like he doesn't even know me.”

“I'm sure he—”

“I mean, I know it's been a long time,” Joe cuts in before I can conjure up anything reassuring. “I get that. But you'd think he'd make some kind of an effort.”

He bites down on the grass stalk then tosses it away, trying to control the emotion in his face. I want to say something nice, something to make Joe feel better. But I can't think of anything convincing.

“So, you don't know either?” He turns back to me.

“Know what?”

“What happened to Danny?”

I shake my head. Glance back towards Lianna and Maisy, relieved to see they've gone.

Joe frowns. “Really? I mean, the two of you were friends, like, for ever. He must have told you something. Or is he avoiding you too?”

I get a sad, sick sort of feeling. Because hearing Joe say it makes me realize it's true. Danny has been avoiding me. Every time I call round at Dial House he's either up in his room or out somewhere, and he barely even acknowledges me at school.

Maybe this would have happened anyway, I tell myself quickly. Maybe growing up always means growing apart.

“I have asked him about it,” I say, thinking back to my failed attempts to talk to Danny. “But he just says he can't remember. The doctor reckons he has amnesia.”

“Yeah, I heard that.” Joe pauses for a moment, scratching the end of his nose with his thumb. “But that's weird, isn't it? That you can forget everything that's happened for several years. I mean, can't they hypnotize you or something? Help you remember?”

“I doubt it's that simple.” Though in truth I've no idea.

“Hasn't his mum taken him to see a doctor or anything?” Joe asks.

“I think so,” I say. I don't mention the psychiatrist.

“I asked my uncle about it. He's a doctor. Not a head doctor, okay, but they all have to learn that kind of stuff when they're training. He says most people get their memory back sooner or later.”

A clump of giggling, whispering girls from Year Eight walk past Danny, openly staring as they pass. He acts like he hasn't noticed, but I can tell by the way he stands up a little straighter that he's basking in the attention.

“And the swimming. That's weird, don't you think?”

I look at Joe blankly.

“You didn't hear?” He frowns in surprise. “Danny refused to rejoin the swimming club. Told Mr Cozens he wasn't allowed.”

“Wasn't allowed? What do you mean?”

“Medical reasons, apparently. But I reckon he just didn't fancy it.” Joe stares into the distance. “I mean, how mad is that? Danny was a bloody fish – always in the water. You could never get him out.”

I picture those silver trophies. All that lunchtime and after-school training, practising turns and putting in the laps. Is Joe serious?

Judging by his angry, slightly bewildered expression, he is. And I can see too how badly Joe needs to make sense of it all.

But I have no more in the way of answers than he does. Just more questions as the days roll past.

“Do you think something bad could have happened to him?” I ask Joe. “While he was away.”

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno.” I shrug. “Maybe he got involved in something. Something dodgy.”

Joe chews another stalk of grass as he considers this. “Yeah, I've been wondering about that too. I mean, how the hell did he live? He was, what, thirteen when he disappeared? We all thought he was dead, but he was out there, having to survive.”

“It would change you, don't you reckon? I mean, you wouldn't be the same.”

We both watch as Danny pulls his cap down over his eyes. God knows how he gets away with it at school. I guess it's another thing the teachers have decided to ignore.

“I don't know,” says Joe, getting to his feet and heaving his rucksack over his shoulder. “And I'm starting to think I don't care either. Might as well leave him to it.”

He looks at me. Studies my face for a moment.