Deadly Games (3 page)

“Why not?” asked Jenny.

“Went to pieces, didn't I? Had a breakdown. Kept seeing them kids in me mind. Didn't have any of our own – we couldn't. Maybe that's why I kept seeing 'em. Anyway, the wife and I fell out so I left home and went on the road. But I didn't see
May and Les for a long time after that.” He spoke of them with affection and yearning and Jenny's eyes filled with tears.

“See?” prompted David. “You saw them again?”

“A few months ago I got a skip at Hockley, but it weren't no good so I moved into the closed-up tube station. That brought back a few memories. Then someone told me about the Roxy. It was warmer, more cosy, like. But I hadn't been there more than a few nights when that old wreck of a screen started to flicker. At first it was no more than a shadow. Then I recognised 'em. It was one hell of a shock.”

“Did you tell anybody?” asked Jenny.

“Just Nell. As I say, she's nosy but at least I can trust her. She told me I could have the sight.”

“Does she have it?” asked David.

“No, but her auntie had, or so she says.”

“And then?” Jenny was worried that they were getting sidetracked. “You saw May and Leslie again, running down the side of the tunnel?”

Sid's eyes lit up. “Every night I saw them two and they went a bit further down the tunnel each time. Then they got stuck – that was a few weeks ago. They just don't go any further, but they might with you. You've got to find them for me.” Sid looked intently at the twins. “In some way I don't understand, them kids are relying on me.”
He paused. “Maybe it's because I've been searching for them for so long that they know I'm not hostile – not like that old misery Mrs Garland. I reckon they can feel that I love 'em. Who knows – ” His voice quavered. “Who knows, they might love me.”

To be loved by a pair of ghosts, thought David doubtfully. That would be strange.

“What do you want us to do?” Jenny was anxious that he shouldn't become too excited.

“Keep watching.”

“You mean, go to the Roxy every day?” Jenny swallowed. Nell was friendly – or seemed to be – but what about the others?

“Maybe it won't take long. Just see where they went – where my kids went.”

“Your
kids?” Jenny whispered in alarm.

“That's how I see 'em.” His eyes pleaded with her.

“We've forgotten someone,” said David. “We've forgotten Mrs Garland. Do you think she murdered May and Leslie and then did a bunk?”

“I've often wondered,” muttered Sid.

“But why should she?” Jenny wondered. “Didn't anyone discover what happened to her?”

“She was evil.” Sid had obviously set Mrs Garland up as an enemy.

“How do you know?” asked David.

“I could see it in her eyes.”

“Wow!” Jenny exclaimed as they left the hospital. It was drizzling and Hockley was veiled by a rain mist, “Did he give us a problem!”

“I can't face going into the Roxy every day. It might take years to see where those kids have gone,” said David miserably.

“We've got to try,” Jenny replied, wishing she didn't feel so afraid. “Sid needs us to help him. He'll just give up and die unless he feels we're getting to May and Leslie.”

“Do
you
think they love him?” David asked.

“I don't know,” said Jenny impatiently. “But we've got to find out.”

“But they're dead,” muttered David. “They must be.”

“I'm sure they are,” said Jenny. “If they're not – well, they won't be kids, will they? They'll be as old as Mum and Dad. Maybe even older.”

“Then what's the point?” He sounded miserable and rebellious.

“They're unhappy.”

“How do you know?”

“They can't rest, can they? And with that Garland woman after them – who wouldn't be unhappy?”

“She must be dead too,” said David bleakly. “Maybe they all died together …”

“I wonder if she murdered them.” Jenny reintroduced
the unpleasant thought. Then she felt a strong hand on her shoulder, gripping painfully, the fingers biting into her flesh. Jenny whipped round but there was no one there – only a faint smell of peppermint.

“What's up?” snapped David.

Jenny was staring behind her, trembling, rubbing at her shoulder.

“What's the matter?”

“It felt as if someone – something grabbed my shoulder. And I can smell peppermint.”

“Must be one of those yobs at the bus stop chewing gum.”

David stared belligerently ahead.

“They're too far away.” She shrugged. “Anyway, it doesn't matter. Let's get down to the Roxy.”

“Now?”

“There's no point putting it off,” Jenny said impatiently.

David sighed. “OK. We'll have to say we've come to get the trolley again. Doesn't seem much of an excuse,” he mumbled.

“Maybe no one'll be there in the daytime.” Jenny sounded doubtful.

“We're going to get to know them all pretty well in the end,” David pointed out gloomily. “So we might as well make a start.”

They walked on towards the Roxy. Jenny was
still feeling shocked and increasingly worried, wary of that grip returning again.

“You don't think Mrs Garland is after us, do you? Like from beyond the grave?” asked David suddenly and Jenny felt a sense of relief. She had known that he had only been covering up when he tried to blame the boys at the bus stop.

“Why didn't you say that right away?” she grumbled. “You know we can't keep secrets from each other.”

“I'm sorry.” David was genuinely penitent. “This whole business gives me the creeps, that's all. There's something really scary about it. I was just hoping to fend it off for a bit.”

“I know what you mean,” said Jenny with feeling. “But I think we should try to get it over with as quickly as possible.”

Jenny had been right. At just after midday, there was no one in the dim confines of the Roxy as she swept the interior with the torch beam. But even so, the twins could still feel a presence – or did the old cinema have a life of its own? The rain was now battering the leaking roof and there was a steady dripping almost like the ticking of a clock. The musty smell of disuse seemed more pervasive than ever, and out of the corner of his eye David saw something scamper through the refuse towards the stage.

“A rat?” whispered Jenny fearfully.

“Let's stand by Sid's trolley – that always seems to spark off the action.”

But this time it didn't and the twins stood there, listening to the dripping and the occasional stirrings and scurryings of the rodent population of the Roxy.

“Nothing's going to happen,” said Jenny in despair.

“Use your willpower,” David suggested tentatively.

“How?”

“Say it's going to happen. Say it's going to happen in your mind and I'll do the same. We've got to concentrate.”

Both the twins tried to think as hard and as positively as they could, but the screen remained discouragingly blank. The wind and rain rattled and pounded the roof; there was such a creaking and groaning that the old cinema sounded like a ship under sail in a heavy storm.

At last the screen reluctantly flickered into life with patchy and scrambled images that at first made no sense at all. Slowly, very slowly, they became sharper but this time there was no sign of May and Leslie. Instead a tall, dark shadow hurried along, lit occasionally by the passing of a tube train. Mrs Garland was handsome, with deep-set eyes, a large nose and a strong, purposeful chin. Her lips were thin and her hair, long and sleek, was caught up in a bun at the back of her neck.

“Focus your mind,” said David. “Focus it harder.”

Jenny concentrated, using as much force as she could, and the spectral figure of Mrs Garland paused in her stride and came to a halt. She turned to face them.

“We've reached her,” Jenny stuttered.

“How could we have done? She's dead, she's a ghost! It's all over.”

“She's listening. Hearing the future.” Were they
right to have concentrated their wills? she wondered. Where was it going to get them?

Slowly Mrs Garland's face began to fill the screen and they could see her bewilderment.

“We've done it now,” muttered David.

Jenny realised they had employed all the wrong tactics, for David's idea had unwittingly speeded up the process which should have been allowed to play at its own pace. And what was the
point
of them seeing it all? she wondered again. There was no way they could change the past. They couldn't protect May and Leslie from Mrs Garland. Then an even more unpleasant thought occurred to Jenny.

“Do you think she can come after us?” whispered David, sharing her thoughts as usual.

As if on cue, the image of Mrs Garland's face grew so large that it filled the screen.

“She looks pretty fierce,” whispered David.

Mrs Garland's lips opened but no words came out.

Then both the twins could feel her speaking in their minds.

Who are you?

Friends
, they silently replied.

What do you want?

To help. Only to help
, thought Jenny and David feverishly, desperate to communicate.

Mrs Garland opened her mouth again, but with
a snap, like an elastic band breaking, she abruptly disappeared. Her presence was still there, though, and the twins could feel her suspicion. They could also detect the faint smell of peppermint in the auditorium.

“Let's go,” said Jenny.

“Wait –”

Something was happening on the screen. Dim shadows again played on its surface and then formed into the two running figures of May and Leslie. But this time there was light at the end of the tunnel.

“Where are they heading?” muttered Jenny.

“The old repair works?” David's voice was hopeful. “Maybe they did hide out there.”

The patch of light grew larger and for a brief second the twins caught a glimpse of a wilderness of rusting metal and overgrown foliage. Then the screen went blank – and stayed that way.

“You come to get that trolley again?” asked Nell, her voice penetrating the gloom and giving them a terrible shock.

“I think we'll have to leave it here,” said David. “I don't see the hospital being exactly keen on it.”

“So you won't have any more excuses for coming back then.” Nell's voice had a slight edge
to it now. “I saw you both staring at the screen. What's so special about it?”

“Nothing,” said Jenny and David in chorus, wishing they didn't sound so guilty. They didn't want to confide in Nell. Sid might not like it.

“You were watching something.”

“We're doing a school project on the homeless,” said David with sudden inspiration. “Sid said we could study his – his – ”

“Environment? I'm not thick, you know. I could probably write it for you,” Nell cut in acidly.

“Perhaps we could interview you,” said Jenny in what she knew was a wheedling tone.

“No chance.”

“Why not?” asked David.

“Because I don't believe you.”

“But – ”

“You're up to something. Up to something for Sid. I know him all too well. Broken-up old man, he is. He needs someone to take care of him. But instead of that he's always on about his mission. Know anything about it?”

“Er, no,” said David.

“Sure?”

“Quite sure.” Jenny was deeply uncomfortable.

“Oh, well.” Nell shuffled towards a pile of boxes and sat down heavily with a sigh. “I'm going to have a kip, but if either of you kids wants
to confide in an old woman, I'm ready and willing. It gets lonely down here, you know.”

David and Jenny looked at each other in consternation.

Although they knew they were late for lunch, the twins walked home slowly, immersed in their own thoughts yet sharing most of them. They lived in a ramshackle old Victorian house overlooking what had once been a wharf. David and Jenny were happy there; it was a great improvement on the estate where they had lived before. They loved the Thames, which ran alongside the garden centre which their father managed. But today, although the rain had cleared, the river was swollen, lapping uncomfortably close to the shore, while the house seemed to have a sullen, tired look.

“I'm knackered,” said David as they walked up the front path. “I'm playing football this afternoon and I
should
be playing again tomorrow morning,” he added in martyred tones.

“Well, you're not now,” Jenny snapped. “We've got to go and report back to Sid and then take a look at the Roxy again.”

“We've seen all we can, and it's Sunday tomorrow. Don't we get a day off?”