Deathwatch (19 page)

THE
door opened and a dim light pooled across the landing. Cat could see the man silhouetted in the doorway, his face in darkness.

“Hi,” said Danny. “I’ve brought Cat. We need to talk to you.”

“I’m pretty busy, actually, Danny. You should have told me you were coming. You can come in, of course, but I can’t talk for long. And shouldn’t you be at home? Doing homework or something?”

“Sorry,” said Danny, looking uncomfortable. “Is David here?”

“No. He’s gone out to get something from Waitrose. He’ll be back soon.”

“Is that…”

“Don’t worry, Danny. He’s fine. He’s not a prisoner. Anyway, what can I do for you? Both. Come in and sit down. Do you want some biscuits or anything? Coffee? Juice?” And he looked at Cat, straight at her eyes. She could not tell at all what he was thinking. She looked away. He made her feel uncomfortable: the idea that he knew so much about her, and probably disapproved of her already, was hard to take.

There was something familiar about him, she realized. It could be that she’d seen him around locally, but it felt like more than that.

His hair was greasy. Or wet. Yes, wet – he’d probably been out in the rain. His face, well, it was sort of ordinary. Bit like Mr Turner’s in some ways: tight, hard. Really short hair.

“No, thanks,” said Danny. Cat shook her head too.

“Well, I need coffee myself so I’ll be a minute or two. Sit down while you’re waiting.”

They followed him into his sitting room and he went through another door, presumably to his kitchen. The two of them sat on a sofa and waited. Danny fiddled with his phone. Cat looked round. The man had been doing something on his computer – the screensaver was floating around. A notebook lay open by the keyboard, full of scribbles.

“What does your uncle do?” she whispered to Danny.

“He’s a security guy for a financial company. But he’s writing his memoirs now. He was a soldier. It’s weird – he doesn’t actually talk about it. I’ve sometimes tried to get him to tell me stuff about it, but he won’t. And now he’s writing it all down. I think it’s because of what’s going on in Iraq – he was in the First Gulf War.”

“So was my dad.”

“Seriously? He was in the army?”

“Territorial Army. He went as a doctor. He doesn’t talk about it much either. To be honest, I don’t really ask. I don’t think I want to know.”

“I want to know. We
should
know. If we don’t know what happens in war then how will our generation do anything about it when it’s our turn to make decisions?”

Cat looked at him. Serious stuff. He sounded … what? Strong. Fired up.

“I want to go into politics,” he said, simply.

Cat didn’t know what to say. Not just an insect boy then.

He went on, almost whispering, looking quickly at the door to the kitchen. “My mum says he was wrecked by the war. She never forgave him for how he behaved when he came back. He was married to a friend of hers. She won’t give details but I think he was pretty horrible to his wife.”

The door handle turned. Danny’s uncle was coming back in, with a mug of coffee. He looked at his watch.

She still couldn’t work out where she’d seen him.

“So what did you want to talk about, Danny?” The wind moaned in the chimney.

Danny hesitated. “It’s about David.”

His uncle looked at Cat, frowning a little.

“She knows about his illness,” said Danny.

“David needs support. He doesn’t need you undermining him.”

Danny carried on, though his face was flushed. Cat couldn’t help respecting him a bit, just carrying on talking while his uncle was being so, well, rude. “Thing is, Cat’s mother had an accident last week, fell off her bike. Well, I know this sounds stupid but I thought it could have been David that caused it. Sort of by mistake. Thinking it was Cat. You know how he was about her a few weeks ago, when … well, you know. Anyway, Cat thought that maybe…”

Uncle Walter turned towards her, his face without expression. “You thought what?”

Cat knew this had been a bad idea. It was going to sound so stupid.

“Look, I don’t mean to be … sort of … horrible, but what with the stuff on Phiz and then what Danny said about his brother hating me and then my mum’s accident when I should…”

“Phiz?”

“It’s a networking site. You…”

“I know what Phiz is,” he said. “What’s it got to do with this?”

Cat looked at Danny.

He spoke. “Cat had someone watching her on Phiz and hassling her and whoever it was put a virus into her laptop.”

“And you think that was David?” He looked at both of them.

“I thought it was,” said Danny. “It could be. I know he’s better now but then…”

“And where do you think he would have done that? He doesn’t have a computer.”

“I thought … he used yours?”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s not interested. He watches DVDs. I would let him use mine, but he’s never asked and he doesn’t like internet cafés – too many people. And before you ask: my computer is password protected. So don’t go suspecting your brother of everything, just because he’s ill.”

“But he said something once, ages ago, about how I should use Phiz to get my own back on Cat.” Cat looked at Danny. He hadn’t said that before.

“But you didn’t, did you? And he didn’t either.”

“Could he have used a computer in the hospital?” asked Cat.

“I don’t think they’re very likely to let patients have internet access, are they?” He stared back at each of them in turn. Cat didn’t like his eyes. He was flexing the fingers of his left hand, massaging them. “And wasn’t there something else you wanted to know?”

They looked at him. He stared at Cat.

“Your mother’s accident? You thought my nephew could have been involved.” He managed to sneer so slightly that it was hardly perceptible.

“I…” She didn’t know what to say. Yes, she did want to know, but he had managed to make her feel so small that she couldn’t ask.

But he was continuing. “What day did it happen? What time?”

“Friday. Last Friday. About six thirty. In the evening.”

He got up and went over to his desk. Picked up a notebook, diary of some sort, flicked back a page. Only the wind and rain made any noise as they waited.

“That was the day David was discharged – against his will, I may add – and I agreed to take him. He was with me all evening. And it wasn’t exactly what I wanted either. It’s quite a responsibility, you know,” and at this he looked at Cat. She looked away. Towards the window.

Beside the window was a noticeboard, a pinboard thing. Her eyes were caught by something familiar. A season ticket for the swimming pool. The fitness centre where she trained.

And then she knew where she had seen him. He was the guy at the fitness centre, who had complimented her on her swimming. And who’d seen her club tracksuit and kitbag.

She looked back at him. He was staring at her and, before she could say anything, he spoke. His face quite different. The friendly uncle all of a sudden.

“I’ve seen you before, haven’t I? At the swimming pool. Anyway, I’m Danny’s uncle. As you now know. Pleased to meet you, at last.” The sarcasm suited him.

She mumbled something in return. A feeling of nervousness came over her and she really wanted to leave. At any moment David could come back from wherever he was. She didn’t like the sound of him, even if he hadn’t been responsible for her mum’s accident, or Phiz, and she didn’t like Danny’s uncle. But if David couldn’t have harmed her mum then there was no need for her to be here now. And she wanted to get home. Suddenly she really wanted that, just to be safe at home.

But now the uncle turned to Danny. “It arrived, you know? Do you want to see it?”

Danny looked at Cat. He seemed … embarrassed? His uncle was picking something up from the table beside his desk. A plastic box. And then she knew.

Another insect collector. The uncle was weird too! She’d been right. Inside, she almost laughed. There was obviously a secret underworld of mad, creepy insect collectors, all comparing the merits of their disgusting creatures.

“Come on – you chose it for me. Great choice, Danny! A real beauty!” Uncle Walter was smiling, the skin of his cheeks creased like corrugated cardboard.

He brought the box towards them. Now she really wanted to get out of there.

“I should be getting back, Danny. My mum might need something.”

Uncle Walter ignored her excuse. “Look! Nothing to be afraid of. Just a dead insect. I know you don’t like living ones – hissing cockroaches, for example.” He knew about that? She glared at Danny, who was not looking at her. “But this one is different: Mantodea:
– Choeradodis stalii
, commonly called the Praying Mantis.”

“I’m not afraid, actually. But I should be getting back.” Danny and his uncle weren’t listening. Danny put his phone down.

The insect was green. Smooth. It looked like a toy, something you’d buy after a visit to a natural history museum. It was quite beautiful in a way, and not at all hairy. So when he held it out for her to take the box, she did. Just like that. She quelled the rush of adrenalin, stopped her hand shaking, and just held the box in front of her, turning it this way and that. And then she passed it to Danny.

She kept her fear inside. She would not let the man see it.

“DANNY
, I’ve really got to go now.”

“Yes, Danny. You should be getting back home as well, shouldn’t you? And I need to get back to my work.”

Cat and Danny both stood up. Put their wet coats back on. Uncle Walter watched them.

She wanted to get out before the crazy brother came back. Even if he was on his pills. Even if he’d been tucked up safely with a mug of herbal tea watching a DVD of
Shrek
when her mum had her accident. She could ask her mother about him. Probably she wouldn’t get any details – patient confidentiality and all that – but her mother could at least reassure her.

Uncle Walter saw them to the bottom of the stairs. Closed the inner door behind them as they left.

It was raining harder as they went through the outer door and it clunked shut. Cat pulled her hood up and began to run, barely waiting to see if Danny was following, though she could hear that he was.

Cat couldn’t explain the fear that gripped her now. It was like that feeling you get in dreams. When something is following, and it’s getting closer. Your back crawls as though cold fingers are about to clutch it. Your legs are too heavy for running.

But she did run, Danny following, down the path and onto the street, along the pavement to the end, through slithery mess of leaves, across, round the corner, up the cobbled road, into the street next to hers.

What was she afraid of? Probably nothing, if she’d stopped to think. But Uncle Walter and the thought of schizophrenic David, and the darkness itself, had all come together to make her want nothing more than to be home, safe indoors in the warm. And the faster she ran, the more afraid she felt, until she wanted to scream.

It was hard to hear anything above the rain drumming on car roofs, the wind in the trees and the sound of her own breathing. There was the street in front of her, sliding round the corner into further darkness.

“Wait!” Danny was shouting behind her.

She stopped and turned, breathing heavily, holding her hand up to shield her eyes from the rain. “What?”

“I’ve got to go back!”

“Why?” she yelled.

“I left my phone.”

Cat’s language was not what her parents would have liked. But she certainly wasn’t going back with him. Why should she? It was
his
uncle.
His
phone.
His
sick brother. They were nothing to do with her.

Besides, he wasn’t a baby; it was early evening, not night-time; and he was only a few minutes from his home. On residential streets. She didn’t have to accompany him. And she was home already. Or almost.

“Look, Danny, we’ll talk later but I’ve had enough of this. You have to tell your mum and dad if you’re worried about David.”

“Listen, Cat, I’m sorry, OK? And thanks too – for not getting mad with me.”

“Yeah, well. Can I go home now? I’m soaking wet. You can call round if you want. Later this evening. Or text me when you get home or something. OK?” She meant it, she realized. It wasn’t just that she felt sorry for him about David. But they had shared stuff. There were things he knew that others didn’t. She wanted to tell her friends but for some reason that would have felt wrong – Danny’s brother was mentally ill and maybe he didn’t want other people to know. OK, so she hadn’t owed him anything before, but he’d been honest with her. Maybe Danny was the only person she could talk to about this.

She ran round the corner. The sound of his footsteps went in the other direction.

Relief flooded through her as she arrived in her own street, saw her own shiny black door.

Better still, the outer door was open; her dad and Angus must be back early. Very early. Well, she’d find out why soon. She went in. The hall was in complete darkness. She fumbled for the switch in the porch. Nothing. Not another power cut? They must have only just got back and her dad would be finding the candles now. She unbuttoned her coat, but kept it on, planning to put it in the airing cupboard. Shook rain from her hair. Left the outer door open to let in some streetlight.

Only later did she wonder why the streetlight was on if it was a power cut.

She picked up the torch from its place. Faintly wondered why it was there if her dad had taken it through to the kitchen. Opened the inner door and swung the beam round the hall.

Shouted up the stairs, “Hello! I’m back!” Took in the silence, was briefly puzzled.

“Hello? Where are you?”

Nothing. Now fear clutched at her, though she could not say why. She took a few steps forward. Where was Polly? The door in front of her was closed. It was normally open. Maybe her mother had shut it. But where
was
her mum? Asleep upstairs? “Mum?”

She was sure she’d heard something. She whipped round, the torch beam careering over the ceiling. And that was when she heard another noise. The front door closing. She screamed as a figure loomed from the darkness by the door.