Scattering Like Light (8 page)

“When Lucas disappeared, it wasn’t because he had managed to steal enough of Rob’s memories, it was because I stopped him. I got really angry and the power in my amulet just sort of streamed out when I pushed it against his. I didn’t know what I was doing, I just wanted him to stop killing Rob.”

It was Callum’s turn to sit there with his mouth open in surprise. He opened and shut it a couple of times before finally being able to speak. “You stopped Lucas? With the amulet?”

I nodded quickly. “It was definitely me. But what I don’t know, what I have to find out, is what happened to him after he disappeared. If he reappeared like Catherine did, unharmed in the river, then I can do the same to you. But I can’t risk it until I know for sure.”

“Why didn’t you tell me all this before now?” Callum’s voice was unexpectedly sharp.

“I wanted to be sure, that’s all. It seemed too cruel to suggest it if I didn’t know it would work.” I looked at him for a moment, tears suddenly threatening to well up. “Is it too late? Have you decided that enough is enough? I still don’t mind bringing you over, even if…”

“Now you’re
definitely
being dramatic,” he sighed. “No, you’re not too late; I just wish you’d told me before. I could’ve spent the last two weeks searching the hospitals, seeing if I could find him.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think of that. I just wanted—” I was interrupted by the shrill ringtone on my phone, making both of us jump. “Hang on a sec,” I said as I wrestled it out of my back
pocket. “Hi, Mum. Oh yes, sorry about that. I … umm, met up with someone from school and we’ve been having a chat. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

I looked up at Callum. “I’ve got to go,” I said apologetically. “They’re waiting for their cups of tea. I’m supposed to be getting the milk.”

He gave a short laugh. “Well, you’d better go; don’t want them to wait for their tea any longer. But we need to talk some more, Alex. We need to talk
a lot
.” His mesmerising eyes were still guarded.

I swallowed nervously. “Sure, we need to go through all the details. I can tell you exactly what happened and then we can both start searching for him.” Callum nodded briefly but didn’t say any more. I tried again. “Look, it’s good news, I know it is. Our only problem is finding Lucas.”

“I wish that were true,” he muttered under his breath, before suddenly becoming brisk. “I need to go and do some gathering. Will you be in later?” I nodded mutely. “Good, I’ll come to the house then.” In the mirror I saw him kiss the top of my head very briefly as he stood up to go. But the glimpse I had of his face as he turned away chilled me to the bone. His eyes were bright with tears.

I was no happier when I got home with the milk than I had been when I went out. My beautifully constructed fantasy of how Callum and I would fall into each other’s arms, as far as we could, had crumbled away. I sat with my family while they looked through the holiday photos, happy and content, trying hard not to look at the photos of Max that were included in the selection. All the time I felt empty inside.

It wasn’t like the feeling I had had before when I thought Callum didn’t love me, or when Catherine had stolen the amulet and I thought she had severed the link between us forever. This was all my own fault. The pain in Callum’s eyes was down to me, and I couldn’t blame him if he decided we were over. He was miserable enough without this. I excused myself from my chattering family and went up to my room. It was still a complete tip; I’d packed in a hurry and left discarded clothes, shoes and make-up strewn across the floor. Without really thinking about it I started to pick everything up, finding a small comfort in restoring some sort of order. I paused at my desk to move the mirror back to its usual position, and as I did I caught a glimpse of a shadowy cloaked figure behind my shoulder, just as the tingle appeared in my wrist.

“Callum?” I whispered as loudly as I dared, relief almost overwhelming me. “Is that you? I didn’t expect you back so early.”

The hooded figure didn’t move but I knew straightaway
from the feeling in my wrist that it wasn’t Callum. “Olivia? It’s you, isn’t it? Come on, come and sit down and tell me what you’re doing skulking around like that.” I tried to sound as upbeat as possible. Olivia was only a child; no more than twelve or thirteen when she had fallen into the River Fleet and drowned. She was easily upset and had been struggling with the aftershocks of a recent encounter with Catherine.

I sat at my desk and watched as the figure slowly slid into position beside me, her identity given away by the repetitive movements she always made with her hands when she was nervous, linking her fingers and thumbs together in a chain, again and again. I had to keep watching and moving my wrist to keep in contact with her. Finally she threw back her hood. I was ready with a welcoming smile and didn’t expect to see the devastated look on her small face.

“Olivia? What on earth’s the matter? Are you OK?”

“It’s Callum. He’s in a really bad way, Alex. What’s happened? Please tell me!”

“What do you mean, a really bad way?”

“I’ve never seen him like it before. He’s really down. I thought that he’d be happy that you were back because he’s been going on and on about it, but he’s in a terrible mood.”

The guilt washed back over me again. “It’s difficult, Olivia. He’s got the wrong end of the stick about something, that’s all.”

She got straight to the nub of the problem in a heartbeat. “Did you find someone else on holiday? Have you dumped him?”

“No, I absolutely haven’t,” I shot back quickly, wondering when she’d got quite so perceptive. She was only a kid after all.

“Well, maybe he thinks you have?”

I couldn’t explain it to her, I realised; it wasn’t fair to Callum.
“I’m sure he doesn’t think that, Olivia. He’s probably just not done enough gathering today, hanging around the airport waiting for me. You know how it is.”

Olivia shrugged in a grudging acceptance that I could be right, her lip quivering.

“Please don’t get so upset,” I urged, looking at the misery etched on her face. “It’s really not that bad. And anyway, when did
you
last go gathering?”

“Umm, I did some this morning,” she hiccuped, still trying not to cry.

“None since then? None this afternoon?” She shook her head, keeping her eyes on the floor.

“It’s not enough,” I reminded her gently. “You have to do more. Remember what Callum is always telling you? You must keep your amulet topped up, especially when you’re not feeling good in the first place.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’ve still got all that stuff from Catherine to deal with too.”

“Oh, Olivia! I’d hoped that might have worked its way out of your system by now.”

She gave a little shake of the head. “No chance. I’m stuck with that forever.”

When Catherine had first appeared and started tormenting me, Olivia had stolen away some of her most important memories. As a result Catherine had been furious and had promised to make my life a misery. She had succeeded. Olivia knew that it was her fault, and that the memories she had stolen from Catherine were vital; they could have helped me to rescue the Dirges. But once Olivia had taken them they were gone, irretrievably lost. And worse, she’d been left contaminated by their sheer malevolence,
and was struggling to keep on top of the spiralling depression that threatened to overwhelm her. I felt terribly responsible for her pain, and really wanted to be able to help her.

“You have to go and gather, Olivia, and I think you should go and do it now.”

“I s’pose I could,” she agreed, almost petulantly.

“I expect Callum is at the cinema. You’ll be able to find him there and come back with him later.” I gave her a quick smile, not wanting to overdo it.

“All right, I’ll go. I know I should.”

“You will come back, won’t you? You need to believe that Callum and I are OK. We just had a bit of a row, that’s all. It happens.” I shrugged as I said it, trying to make light of the whole thing.

She turned her big, sad brown eyes on me, unblinking in the mirror. “I don’t want it to happen. I want you and Callum to find a Happy Ever After and take me with you.”

My heart twisted. “I know, and we want that too. We just need to find the right way. Now,” I announced, becoming much more brisk, “off you go, find some little yellow lights to gather, and I’ll see you later.”

I sighed with relief as the strange tingle disappeared from my wrist. It was hard work dealing with Olivia, but what she had said worried me. I didn’t want Callum suffering so badly, and the guilt reared up again. If only I had been firmer with Max during the holiday he wouldn’t have been so sure of himself. For the umpteenth time I relived that hideous moment in the airport, knowing that the two of them were side by side next to me. Poor Callum! I hung my head with shame as I thought of Max’s words. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t mentioned kissing me. If
I shut my eyes I could remember every detail of the beach, every look he gave me, every touch, and then of course the fact that I had kissed him back, just a little, before I pushed him away. That was the worst bit, because I knew I wasn’t being entirely honest when I told Callum I had done nothing to encourage Max.

It had only been the day before, but seemed like much, much longer ago.

The evening dragged as I waited for Callum and Olivia to reappear. I unpacked my bag and sorted out my washing just to keep busy, glancing in every shiny surface that I passed, but there was no sign of them. As it got later I was less and less convinced that they would be able to come. After a certain point in the evening something in the amulets compelled the Dirges to return to St Paul’s Cathedral, where they spent the night in the Whispering Gallery. As a result they couldn’t travel that far from London, and there was no chance of my favourite fantasy of walking on the beach with Callum ever happening unless I could make my plan to bring him over work.

I looked at my watch with a sinking heart. The possibility of seeing Callum again was getting less and less likely, and I really didn’t want him spending the night worrying about my feelings for him. I decided to give him five more minutes to appear, and then call him. Picking up a load of dirty clothes I took them downstairs to the washing machine. Mum was in the kitchen sifting through a huge pile of post.

“Hi, Alex, that’s efficient of you! You’re the first one. Do you want to bung it all straight into the machine and I’ll set it running before I go to bed?”

“OK. It’s pretty much all light-coloured stuff.” I picked out one T-shirt as I squeezed it all in. “What about this one, Mum?
Can it go in too?”

She looked up from the letters, her glasses perched on the end of her nose. “Hmm, not sure. Let me have a look at the label.” She peered for a moment at the tiny writing on the label. “No, I wouldn’t risk it. I’m not sure how often that’s been washed before and it might run. We don’t want that happening again, do we?” She smiled wryly at me. Not long ago one of my turquoise T-shirts had got mixed up in a pile of white towels and the entire load had turned a fetching shade of pale green.

“I think I might get an early night then, Mum, given that we were up at the crack of dawn. G’night.”

“Goodnight, sweetie. I’ll pop in before I go to bed.” She went back to sorting post and I’d turned to go when she said, “Oh Alex, just a sec, there’s a letter here for you.” She fished a small, plain white envelope out of the smaller pile and handed it to me. “Looks intriguing!” she said with a smile, clearly being nosy.

“Probably from one of my hordes of admirers,” I said, taking the envelope nonchalantly.

“Which one?”

“None of your business!”

She laughed and gathered up a load of pizza delivery leaflets. “It was worth a go! You never tell me anything these days.” She was smiling but I knew she was desperate to know what was going on. I used to tell her everything when I was younger and I knew she missed that. And I had been particularly opaque since meeting Callum. No wonder the whole thing was driving her mad.

I ran back upstairs with the letter unopened in my hand. It was thick paper: a proper envelope, not one of the self-sticking ones, with my name and address handwritten carefully on the front. I shoved the mess off the futon and threw myself down,
sliding my finger under the flap as I did. Inside was a matching sheet of paper, folded in half. I smoothed it out over my knee, a frown instantly forming on my brow.

Alex, please call as soon as you can. We have something important to discuss
.

Underneath was a mobile phone number, written in the same careful hand. I turned the paper over. There was nothing on the back. The envelope gave no clues either, the postmark smudged and unreadable. It was just the message and the number, with no clue who it was from.

Frowning even harder I reached for my mobile and punched in the number to see if it belonged to someone I knew, but there was nothing. That wasn’t so surprising though, as I had managed to destroy my phone about a month ago and hadn’t been able to transfer all my old numbers. Now I only had those I’d actually called since.