Saving Silence (6 page)

I smiled and said it would be nice. I knew it wouldn’t happen. Dad never remembered stuff like this. Still, he’d been right about one thing. Doing something with my brother felt
good.

Sam and his mysterious games could wait until tomorrow.

But as it turned out, tomorrow was too late.

WEDNESDAY 13 NOVEMBER

On the bus I felt angry at myself. What the hell was I doing, leaving the house and going to sixth form, somewhere I knew for a fact wasn’t safe? I took a seat. My eyes
met the hostile gaze of a guy wearing a beanie hat on the opposite side of the bus. I looked away quickly. Then I sidled a glance back. He was still looking at me. What if he was one of them? I
rammed my finger on the stop button, jumping off as soon as the doors opened and running down the nearest side road.

If the guy had followed there was no way I’d’ve been fast enough to escape, but he hadn’t. He was still on the bus and was probably just a normal guy who didn’t like the
look of me. Or maybe he hadn’t given me a funny look at all and I was just starting to go crazy with stress, seeing threats where there were none.

It was the first time I’d left the house since Saturday and I felt like I was falling apart. I can’t carry on like this, I thought. I have a life, and yeah, it could be better, but I
want it back. I
hav
e to do something to sort this out.

Yesterday I’d been resolved not to involve Imogen. I’d been congratulating myself on throwing her off, trying to make out I was some . . . I don’t know, brave heroic character
from one of Mum’s films. Ditto Mia. But it just didn’t work in real life.

This morning I realized how wrong it all was. I knew stuff that Imogen ought to know and I couldn’t get away from that. It wasn’t fair that I was in a position to change her life.
Having that kind of power over someone’s future was horrible, but Imogen was a doer, someone who liked facts, someone who was almost brutally practical. She’d rather know, I was sure,
and better it came from me than from someone else. And maybe she’d help me figure out what I ought to do too.

But when I saw her with Benno I bottled it. There was no way I could speak freely with him there. He was just a kid – I didn’t want him getting involved in this, especially now
I’d got to know him.

For a moment I did consider going to the police. They were there to help, theoretically, but it was dangerous to accuse anyone of anything around here, unless you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt
they’d get convicted. I’d heard about so many revenge attacks that I knew there was no chance I’d be safe. I remembered reading about a builder who’d reported a couple of
guys for breaking into his neighbour’s house. A couple of nights later the man was walking his kids home from school when a bunch of guys jumped out and beat him up in front of them.
He’d ended up on life support. I didn’t want that happening to me.

I’d had enough of faffing about. It was time for a new plan.

THURSDAY 14 NOVEMBER

For the first time ever I considered bunking school. What was the point of sitting in lessons when I couldn’t concentrate? Learning about cash flow and business plans
– whatever! I pictured Sam’s earnest face and I wondered what was going on under that too-thick head of hair, that hidden world I’d completely failed to get through to.

I couldn’t vent my frustration on Nadina, not when she wasn’t herself. I was impressed she’d made it in at all. ‘What else was I gonna do?’ she asked, pushing soggy
fries round her plate at lunchtime. We were sitting in our usual spot behind the cutlery counter in the canteen, which with its peachy-orange walls looked as though it had a bad case of fake tan.
Kimmie and Justyna, two mates of ours, were next to us arguing about
X Factor
. ‘It’s doom and gloom back home. Doing my head in.’

‘I can come over,’ I said. ‘Or you’re welcome to stop by mine. Might do you good to get away.’

‘Cheers, but there ain’t anything you can do.’

I decided to change the subject and told her that I was going to pop round to Sam’s. It would upset Ollie if he found out – he was still being distant – but it was the only
thing I could think to do. So after school I took Benno home and then caught the bus over.

The same woman as last time opened the door. This time she was wearing a baggy sweater over leggings. She looked pale, but at the sight of me her eyes lit up.

‘Thank goodness! Someone who might know.’

‘Eh?’ I said, thrown off balance.

The woman gave me a look that said it should be obvious what she meant. ‘Do you know where Sam is?’

‘Isn’t he here?’

‘I’ve no idea where he is!’

‘What?’ I said, confused.

‘Maybe you can help me . . .’ The woman held the door open. I hesitated before entering.

Inside the house was as pristine as it had been on Tuesday – but silent. I followed the woman into the kitchen. This time the counter was spotlessly shiny. There was a sheet of paper in
the centre, very white and conspicuous. The woman pushed it at me. The handwriting was big and clear and reminded me of Benno’s.

Dear Tamsin,
it read.

I don’t want you to worry or think I’m missing or have run away or anything. I want a break so I’ve gone away for a bit. I’m not living rough and
I’ll be perfectly safe and I’ll come back soon. Please don’t stress out and no need to let Dad know. I’m fine and will give you a call later.

Bye. Sam.

I looked at the woman, who I guessed was Tamsin. Her face fell when she realized I was as clueless as she was.

‘He’s never done anything like this before.’ She sounded like she was about to cry. ‘He says he’s safe, but Sam would say that even if he was being dangled over a
crocodile pit. He’s far too polite, and he hates to bother people with his problems.’

That sounded familiar. Funny, I’d never have put Sam and I down as being on the same page there. I read the note again. One phrase jumped out as odd.

‘What is it he needs a break from?’

‘I don’t know!’ Tamsin flung up her hands. I wondered if she was an actress. She was certainly glam enough to be, and it might explain why she was knocking round the house in
the middle of the day when most people were out at work. ‘I don’t understand the way Sam’s mind works. I’m only the stepmother.
I
don’t understand
anything.’

You and me both, I thought. I wondered what had happened to Sam’s real mum. Perhaps Sam’s dad was one of those men who had affairs with younger, prettier women and then divorced
their wives for them. Somehow I’d always pictured Sam as a bit of a mummy’s boy. Wrong again, clearly.

‘What’s his dad think?’ I asked.

‘I’ve not said anything. Phil’s in Copenhagen right now. Business. Very important.’

‘I’m sure Sam is OK. He’s definitely weighed up what he’s doing, else he wouldn’t have left a note.’

‘Left a note! God, it sounds like we’re talking about a suicide.’ Tamsin laughed, sounding slightly hysterical. ‘I’m not so sure. He’s really been affected by
this accident.’

‘It’s probably just shock.’ I knew how I’d felt on Sunday – weird and dislocated and slightly outside the world. ‘Has he done anything else out of the
ordinary lately? Other than pulling this vanishing trick?’

Tamsin perched on the counter. ‘Sam’s been a creature of habit ever since he came here. Up at the same time every morning, breakfast at half seven, goes to school, comes back, does
his homework, goes jogging with the dog, then mostly stays in his room. But about two weeks ago he changed. His cousin Mia was visiting from Yorkshire. He was out late with her on Saturday night
and he seemed fine when they left. But the next morning, after Mia went home, he seemed so jumpy. After that he stopped going running. He even asked if I could start dropping him off at school, and
Sam . . . well, Sam’s not hot on spending time with me, or putting people out of their way . . .’

She went quiet. I felt a little relieved. Tamsin going full steam was almost as overwhelming as sitting in the front row when Ms Paul was booming speeches in assembly. ‘Did you ask what
was up?’

‘I just hoped he’d tell me in his own time.’

‘Do you think Sam’s in trouble?’

‘Imogen . . .’ Tamsin said quietly. I was surprised she’d remembered my name. It made me like her suddenly. ‘If you know anything, even if it means betraying Sam’s
confidence . . .’

Tamsin had very intense hazel eyes. Right now I felt they were burning into me. ‘Sam’s never let me in.’ I said. ‘Sorry.’

Tamsin sighed heavily. ‘There’s no one else I can think to ask. I was glad when you came the other day, you know. I thought, good, he does have friends.’

I winced. Way to make me feel bad! I glanced round the kitchen, picturing Sam, happy to chat about rubbish like baking, but defensive when it came to what was really important.

‘He’s running scared,’ I said, everything becoming clear. Sam in Mmm Hot Chick, looking wild. Saying he hadn’t wanted to do this, but that he had to tell me something.
The car speeding towards us. Sam, too scared to go into school. Switching stories, trying to throw me off. Now he was hiding – but from what?

‘Do you think this is serious?’ Tamsin asked, looking frightened and suddenly little girl-like.

‘You’ve tried calling, right?’

‘Obviously! As far as I know he took his mobile, but it just went to voicemail.’

There could be lots of reasons for that. Some less pleasant than others. Christ, Sam, I thought. If you were lying about what you really came to tell me on Saturday, does that mean I’m in
danger now? You said you knew something about me. Is it connected to what’s happening to you? How do I even begin to find out?

I took Sam’s dog for a walk. Maybe it was a weird thing to do, but Jessie had strolled up while I was with Tamsin and I realized that with Sam away she’d probably
not gone out all day.

I glanced at Jessie as we walked through the gates to the park. She gave me a weary look that almost made her seem human. She wasn’t spritely on her feet. From the grey muzzle, I guessed
she’d been with Sam growing up. He probably spent more time with her than with actual people.

The air was chilly and it was starting to drizzle. No one seemed to be about. Still, I wasn’t going to palm Jessie off with a short walk. Deciding to warm up, I began to jog, Jessie
trotting beside me on the lead. As we crossed on to the central path, I saw that I wasn’t alone after all. Two people were slouched on a bench about two hundred metres ahead. They were too
far away for me to really make out, but I was almost sure that they were looking my way.

Whatever, I thought, carrying on. But when I got closer and saw that they definitely were looking at me, I became concerned.

Then they stood up. One wore a cap and a heavy khaki coat, the other a black hoody. Scarves were drawn up high over their faces. They were totally anonymous. There was a path branching off to my
right, just before I reached their bench. I decided to take it. When I looked back, I saw that they weren’t standing still any longer.

They were running. After me.

Panic kicked in. I broke into a sprint. I felt Jessie’s lead tug. She was doing her best with the sudden change of pace, but I knew it wasn’t enough. She was too old to sprint for
longer than a few minutes. The guys weren’t as fast as I could be, but thanks to Jessie they were gaining on me.

One of them yelled out. The words were lost on the wind. Did they have knives? Did they want to hurt me? I couldn’t see. The gates looked impossibly far away. But beyond was a busy road.
There I’d be safe. Jessie’s lead cut into my hand.

‘Phone!’

They were closer. Close enough for me to hear what they were shouting. ‘Phone, phone, phone . . .’ – again and again. Seeing them almost on my heels, I did it. I dropped
Jessie’s lead. I heard her yelp but I didn’t look back. I bolted towards the exit. It felt as if I’d never run so fast. Every second, every moment, I was sure I’d feel a
hand grab my arm. But there was nothing. When I did turn round, they’d given up. If they were still shouting, I couldn’t hear.

I’d lost them.

I’d also lost Jessie.

It was only once I’d reached the nearby shopping street that I was able to think again, surrounded by familiar sights and smells and people. I crashed down on a bench at
the bus station, drawing long, ragged breaths.

If I hadn’t let Jessie go, I’d have been toast. What had they wanted? Just to nick my phone?

The timing was almost funny. In fact I did start to laugh. I stopped when some schoolkids looked at me like I was a nutter. I half wanted to explain that I was perfectly sane, only I bloody well
had enough on my plate this week without getting mugged. Talk about coincidences! Someone up there was having a right joke with me.

A nutter, I thought. Yeah, that’s what I am now. Whatever happened to normal?

The answer was, normal hadn’t gone anywhere. It was all around. Buses were drawing in, people were pushing forward to get seats and teenagers were hanging about eating chips. I just
wasn’t part of normal any more.

All my life I’d felt safe where I lived. People talked about the dark side of north-east London, but I’d never experienced it. But now things were different. I was different. Because
I knew I had reason to feel afraid.

I’d never felt so alone.

THURSDAY 14 NOVEMBER

On the tube everyone seemed to be looking at me. They weren’t of course – it was hardly as though the sight of a teenager with a rucksack and a stitched-up chin was
jaw-droppingly spectacular. My imagination was just running riot. It felt as if I had a neon sign saying ‘Running away from home’ flashing above my head. Not that I was running away,
not really. I’d tried to do it as well as I could, leaving Tamsin the note, and I would call her later, and it wasn’t as though I was planning on staying away forever. I didn’t
have much with me. Nothing had seemed that important when push came to shove, only some clothes, cash from my savings account and my not-very-smart phone. I definitely wasn’t leaving
that.