Chapter 22
I sit with Luke in the kitchen. We don’t speak. The clock above the door ticks on, but what does it matter? You can’t turn it back and get the chance to do things differently.
If I’d known what I could do – what I can do – back in Thorn’s room, he’d be dead and they’d be here. Alive.
Luke clears his throat.
“Do you think that your parents will be OK?”
My voice doesn’t work. My throat is sore and dry and when I open my mouth, nothing comes out. I try again.
“They’ll be OK,” I croak. “Whatever he did to them is wearing off; they should be fine by morning.”
“How do you know?”
Staring at the table top, I shrug.
The ticking of the clock grows louder. Luke takes a deep breath.
“When I was eight years old, our cat, Bootsy, went missing.”
I can’t do this right now.
Luke grabs my cold hand and strokes it. He doesn’t realise that I’m going to fall apart any minute and he’s making it worse.
“My older sister, Jenny, was devastated. Bootsy was her pet and had been with the family for most of Jenny’s life. The whole family searched for hours for Bootsy, but no one could find him. Jenny was a mess. Jelly? JELLY! You with me?”
A tear trickles down my cheek and he wipes it away.
“It was getting dark and there was still no sign of Bootsy. Jenny started crying and I realised that I knew exactly where he was. I grabbed my dad from the back yard and convinced him that I’d heard mewing coming from the empty house two doors down from us. We snuck in through a back window and found Bootsy stuck in the spare bedroom, where I knew she would be.”
He stops and lifts my chin. He looks into my eyes. He wants me to respond, to show some life, some interest, but I can’t.
“It’s OK, Jelly,” he whispers as my lips start to tremble. “Two years later, I found a little girl who’d fallen down a well. The police had been searching for her for thirty-six hours with no luck. I didn’t even know that anyone had gone missing; I just had to go there. I knew that I had to hurry - that someone needed my help.” He shrugs.
Because I know he wants me to, I manage to ask.
“Did you get there in time?”
Luke smiles and my breath hitches in my throat.
“Yeah, I found her and raised the alarm. She was as hungry as hell, but otherwise OK. The year after that was a busy time: I found another missing person and saved a seventy-year-old grandfather who was about to kill himself.”
I look up.
“Dodgy heater, carbon monoxide poisoning.”
Luke stalls, his smile gone.
“The year after that I helped five people,” he says quietly. “Not all of them needed physical saving, but all five needed help in some way and I was being driven to give it to them.”
Luke looks away. His shoulders droop and he hangs his head.
“The year after that was worse…I had visions, flashes from people’s lives. I started to feel resentful: angry that this thing kept happening to me. It could strike at any time, anywhere, and I would be forced to follow my instincts wherever they took me. My life was being constantly disrupted; I was at the beck and call of this thing, whatever it was, and it was ruining my whole life.”
He turns to me.
“I couldn’t concentrate on schoolwork or homework, my friends and family started to notice that something was wrong and started to treat me differently; it was all falling apart.”
I reach out and touch his arm. “Calm down, it’s OK.”
Luke laughs. “OK? You think so? I was thirteen years old and my life was over. There I was helping people left right and centre and bit by bit I was growing to be the person who needed help.”
“So what did you do?”
Luke rakes a hand across his face.
“One day, it must have been May or June, the weather was so good, I had a vision. I saw a woman’s face. She was crying; there were mascara streaks down her cheeks. I was on my way to a big football match. I’d been chosen as captain for the very first time and I was buzzing. When the vision hit me, I was so angry. One of the most important days of the year and it was being taken away from me. I had no choice, no say in it; no say in my own life.”
The wind picks up. Rain batters the window panes, shaking them in their frames.
“So,” Luke whispers, “I ignored it…I pushed the vision to the back of my mind and I went to play football.” He closes his eyes, his voice thick with disgust. “We won the game four to one. I was voted man of the match, had a trophy and everything, and when I got home that evening, I didn’t give the woman in my vision a second thought.”
I know what’s coming and I don’t want to hear it.
“She committed suicide. Took a bunch of pills right about the time I was being awarded my trophy.”
“I know you’re trying to distract me, Luke; keep me occupied. It’s OK. You don’t have to do this.”
He acts like he hasn’t heard me.
“She died because of me; because I wanted to play football.”
“That’s not true. She died for some personal reason that we’ll never know. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know that she was going to kill herself.”
“I knew that something bad was going to happen, though.”
“Luke, you were thirteen years old.”
He sighs, shaking his head. “After that, things were different. I welcomed the visions, the chance to help people…to even the score. I became the perfect vessel for whatever force was guiding me and I’ve got a 100% track record since.”
He stares at me in that intense way of his.
I wish he wouldn’t look at me like that.
“I had to help you, Jelly: I had no choice. Just like you had no choice tonight. What happened wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could and you saved me and your family.”
But I didn’t save them. I let them die.
“Luke…I think that I’m going to leave Seabrook.” I look at him, really see him this time. “I can’t stay here anymore.”
He reaches out and takes my hand.
“Jelly, I know it hurts, but they wouldn’t want you to leave your family, your home.”
I start to cry. Great, hulking sobs that won’t be held back.
With an almighty crash, the back door bursts open.
I leap from my seat, Luke seconds behind me. Something wet, loud and very alive catapults itself into the room and careers into me with the force of a charging rhinoceros. Screeching, Agatha launches herself into my arms, knocking us both off our feet. Sprawled on the floor, she squeezes me until I can hardly breathe.
“Humphrey,” Agatha shouts, right in my ear, “HUMPHREY, get in here – she’s HERE.”
Humphrey staggers into the kitchen, sopping wet, bright red and puffing. Excited hands drag me to my feet.
“I thought you guys were dead,” I whisper. “He told me you were dead.”
Agatha and Humphrey exchange glances.
“It was close.” says Humphrey.
Agatha looks at me with that signature look of hers. The one that doesn’t miss much.
I adore that look.
“Is he gone?” She asks.
“Yep. He’s gone.” A ripple of fear dims my happy glow. I look around the kitchen. “Where’s Rhiannon?”
Agatha winks and I know it’s OK. “For a cheerleader, she is one unfit lady.”
“I most certainly am not.”
Rhiannon sways in the doorway, water running down her face. Her skin is pale, the angry lump on the side of her head already turning purple.
“For your information,” she says, bristling with indignation, “I have a concussion.”
I wrestle myself free of Humphrey and rush over to Rhiannon.
“Hi,” she says, gripping the kitchen counter.
“I have never been so glad to see you in my whole life.”
I throw my arms around my favouritest pompomhead in the whole wide world and hug her to me.
“Like, OW!”
“Whatever.”
“No, seriously – ow!”
“Do you always have to have the last word?”
That’s just about it, for the first instalment.
We sit at the kitchen table, exchanging stories. I can’t get the grin off my face. Every time I look at Agatha, or Humphrey, or even Rhiannon, my heart soars. They’re back from the grave and it’s the best feeling in the world.
“So, your parents are going to be fine?” Agatha asks.
“Yep.”
“And the Hunter’s really gone?”
“Yep.”
“What are you going to tell them?” Humphrey, as always, is still worrying, but I laugh at his concerns and brush them aside. Nothing can bring me down, for I am protected by an impenetrable cloak of smugness and elation.
“It’ll be fine. Although I think it’s time for a little more honesty in our relationship.”
“So, it’s really over?”
“Yes, Humphrey,” I sigh with mock exasperation. “It’s really over. Things can start to get back to normal around here.”
I glance at Luke and Rhiannon, my grin growing even wider.
“Well, almost normal. I don’t suppose these two are about to bugger off in a hurry.”
“Jelly!”