Darkness Demands Part 33

"Like what?"

"A piece of paper."

"Oh, Christ, Dad. What on Earth are you talking about?"

"Never mind. Sorry to have disturbed you, Paul."

John heard the sarcasm slip into his voice. He didn't intend it, but Paul's moodiness had started to irritate him.

"Door, Dad."

Biting his tongue, John banged the door shut behind him.

2.

Paul glared at the ceiling. Why had Miranda left home? He couldn't believe she'd do a thing like that? She'd always lived harmoniously with her parents. And if she had left, why hadn't she told Paul she was going? He'd gone head over heels for Miranda; now she'd simply upped and left. And if Miranda were a runaway, as her mother had implied, would the police be involved? Miranda was almost seventeen. It wasn't as if she was a child. She'd be able to find a job and a place of her own to live.

But, and he found the truth as hard to swallow as a rock, she'd abandoned him; dropped him like a s.h.i.tty bit of rag. When it came down to it he didn't know what hurt most: Miranda vanishing or the rejection. Gritting his teeth, he rolled over and pushed his face against the pillow. He'd never experienced anything like this before. This was sheer f.u.c.king agony. He'd fallen in love for the first time and lost the girl all in the s.p.a.ce of a week. Christ, this was torture. But the worst thing was he knew he couldn't do a d.a.m.n thing about it.

3.

The sun burned ferociously. Sam slunk off into the shade in the orchard. All John could see of him was a dog-shaped shadow glued to a pink tongue. The mill pond mirrored the sky. b.u.t.terflies streamed across the meadow; psychedelic splashes of color on the wing.

John still drew a blank on the fourth letter. He was certain one had arrived. He was equally certain a member of his family had moved it. But where?

By three thirty Elizabeth was home. She changed into a swimming costume. At first she wanted to paddle in the lake. John told her that was a definite No-No. The sides of the lake were steep; in no time at all she'd be in too deep. Elizabeth compromised, playing with the garden hose, watering the trees, then herself, then the dog.

Paul stayed in his room. John found the silence ominous. Any moment he expected to hear the crash of furniture against the walls.

The lock on the brief case wouldn't budge. Like its big brother mechanism up at the sluice gate, what should be moving parts stolidly refused to move. Whatever secrets the case contained weren't going to be revealed yet.

A little after five Val turned the car into the driveway.

He greeted her with a kiss. "Had a good day?"

She unb.u.t.toned the top of her blouse. "A hot one. I'm going to peel these clothes off and have a cold shower."

"Want any company?"

"A cold shower. Where I cool down and become calm and composed. Not all fired up and raunchy." She laughed. "And congratulations on the new book deal. You deserve it." For a while they talked about the book, and whether it would be tempting fate too much by booking an overseas trip on the strength of the advance. Then as they walked to the house John told her about Paul.

"I haven't seen him lose it like that before," John said. "I thought he was going to kick the kitchen to pieces."

"He's growing up, John. He's having to learn how to handle new experiences."

"But he's seventeen. I'd have thought he'd be growing out of adolescence."

"John, not everyone keeps such a tight grip on their emotions as you, you know?"

John shot her a double take. "Are you saying I'm repressed or something?"

"No, just controlleda goodness it's hot." Pulling a c.o.ke from the refrigerator, she rolled it against her forehead. Perspiration rolled down her throat, to moisten the neck of her blouse. "Maybe I should shave off all my hair," she breathed.

"Maybe you should."

"John?" She looked stung by his response. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean that." He smiled, shrugging. "Just one of those days, I suppose."

"One of those days? You are joking?" Her eyes widened in surprise. "Your agent closes your biggest book deal so far, and you say you've had a lousy day?"

"Well, maybe not lousy per se." He forced a smile. "But eventfula certainly eventful."

"We're going to celebrate."

"Of course we are."

"How about a trip to London. Bright lights, big restaurants?"

"Now you talk my language."

"All right. When?

"How about next weekend?"

"A bad time of the month."

"Oh."

"And we do want to celebrate every way we can, don't we?"

"Absolutely."

She kissed him. He tasted salt on her skin from the perspiration. "And I'm glad the book deal worked out, John." She kissed him again. "You know something?"

"What?"

"I think all our good luck's come at once."

"Touch wood." He reached out and squeezed the back of the kitchen chair as hard as he could.

4.

An observer watching from a place of safety might have described it as the calm before the storm. That Thursday evening they ordered pizza in order to escape the heat of the kitchen. Paul ate his in the sanctuary of his bedroom. John, Val and Elizabeth ate outside in the shade of the house. At seven in the evening the sun was still pretty brutal.

He and Val eased the pizza on its way with iced beers. Elizabeth sucked on a carton of blackcurrant juice. Sam sat under the table. His tongue dripped saliva onto the stone slabs. But the heat did nothing to dissuade him from munching any crust that came his way.

"John, if we're going to be in for a heatwave we should have some decent air-conditioning."

"And a swimming pool," Elizabeth added. "With a diving board."

John smiled. "Whoa. I haven't even signed the contracts yet."

"In the meantime we'll have melted into sticky puddles on the ground."

His smile widened. "OK, I'll make some inquiries about air-conditioning. Right, I'll shift these. Otherwise we'll have ants all over us." He collected the pizza cartons with their cargo of dead crusts, then went to dump them in the trash. After that, he took another shot at unlocking the briefcase. Still no joy. He squirted more oil through the lock.

"John. Where did you get that monstrosity?"

He squinted back where Val stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the setting sun. "Somebody from the village gave it to me this morning."

"What is it, an old Gladstone bag?"

"Something like that. It's a bit too boxy for a briefcase. Little beauty, isn't she?"

"If beauty's in the eye of the beholder."

"It is old."

"You're not thinking of using it, are you?"

"No. The lock's rusted to b.u.g.g.e.ry." He gave the keyhole another squirt. "I'm hoping it might contain some information for the next book."

"Ah, the disappeared of Skelbrooke."

He nodded at the briefcase. "It belonged to Herbert Kelly, who lived here when it all happened."

"Do you think you've another Blast His Eyes on your hands?"

"That's what I'm hoping, hon."

"Do you suspect our Mr. Kelly of murdering the people who vanished?"

"No. He wasn't the type."

"Is there a murderous type? Remember, it's always supposed to be the person you least suspect."

Grinning, he wiped his hands on a cloth, "Ah, you astound me, Holmes."

"Sarcastic swine." She grinned back. "I've a good mind to chuck you in the pond."

"You'll have to catch me first!"

That was the last carefree evening.

5.

Even the sunset didn't bring relief from the heat. As John splashed cold water on his face in the bathroom he heard Val scolding Elizabeth in his daughter's bedroom. The voices echoed across the landing.

"Lizzie, how many times have I told you to put your videos away on the shelf when you've finished with them?"

"I did. Paul must have-"

"Paul's not touched them. Now where's The King & I tape?"

"I don't know."

"But the box is empty."

"Uh, it's here under the pillow."

"It'll wind up broken. Put it away properly."

"Mum-"

"And I had to tidy up after you on the patio this morning. I nearly broke my neck tripping over the things you'd left out there."

"But I didn't-"

"Now come on, time for bed."

"I'm sleeping on top of the bed." This time Elizabeth sounded sulky.

"All right. Now lay still; try and keep cool."