The Moors: Some secrets are better left buried (11 page)

‘I don’t want to live in a world where people can’t change. Do you?’ she replied.

Christian fell silent for a moment.

‘Well… a promise is a promise. I’ll go and get him,’ was all he said of the matter.

Christian disappeared back into the house with purpose and Amanda took a moment to absorb the land around her. It had been the only day during her stay that the sky was blue and free from clouds. In the golden glow of sunlight, the setting was truly idyllic. The people in the home were most certainly quirky, but she had grown to love much about them and despite initially finding the place rather creepy, she had finally given in to its charm. Sure, if she were to run a care home it would be fundamentally very different, but she already knew she didn’t have the temperament for such a lifestyle and anybody who did deserved to be applauded.

Amanda started up another game of top trumps and as she ran things through in her mind, she knew her work within the home was almost complete. All she had to do was see David – now the only person in the home she had yet to meet – and then she could form a full opinion of the home and get back to living her own life; a new life, with her family in waiting.

It was the final straight and the end was in sight. After all, Margaret had recently warned her how dangerous Ellie was and they soon managed to develop a bond. Therefore, how bad could David really be?

As the front door of the house swung open with force, she was about to find out.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Tip-off
Monday 14
th
February, 1972

‘Get off me, you fucker!’ yelled David, at the top of his lungs, the echoes of his voice alerting and disturbing each of the children in the yard as he kicked and screamed, trying his best to hurt Christian. Eventually, one of the blows landed as he struck the homeowner hard on the lip. Suddenly, the air around Christian turned blue and even David fell silent, perhaps realising he had gone too far. Christian put his hand to his lip and pulled it away, revealing the boy had drawn blood. David was stocky but had a youthful face. Amanda guessed he would be around 15 years old, but was powerful for his age and the blow he landed would certainly have hurt. Angered, Christian stepped towards him and grabbed his shoulders firmly.

‘What have I told you about your language?’ he shouted, as he threw the boy forcefully to the ground.

Gordon covered his ears.

Georgina lowered her head in a vain attempt to block out the commotion.

Walter folded his paper, placing it on his seat as he stood. It was clear he expected to be needed.

Reuben cowered behind Amanda.

‘It’s okay,’ Amanda assured him.

‘N-n-no, it’s not,’ replied the boy, his voice trembling.

David leapt back up to his feet and Christian once again stepped towards him.

‘Say sorry, now,’ Christian demanded.

David did not. Instead, he spat in Christian’s face.

‘Fuck you!’ he yelled, rebelliously, before turning and running full speed down the hill.

‘Get back here!’ Christian screamed, but the boy had no intentions of stopping.

David fixed his eyes on Amanda and sprinted towards her, veering around Walter, who unsuccessfully attempted to block him. As he drew closer to Amanda, she walked away from Reuben, observing the look of pure hatred that covered David’s face as he shot towards her like a bullet.

‘Slow dow—’

David launched himself at Amanda, knocking her to the ground before raining down with his fists.

‘No. L-l-leave her alone!’ yelled Reuben in helpless defence.

David took no notice and chose instead to focus on the bodily attack of his new enemy, aiming to cause as much damage as he could before Christian and Walter reached them.

‘You’ll never hurt me,’ he yelled. ‘I won’t let you!’

David hit Amanda harder and harder, his rage forever growing.

‘What are you doing?’ Amanda yelled, attempting to block his punches with her flailing arms.

Still, he hit her, his great power and speed defying his young body. Amanda managed to take the punishment, but when he landed a solid blow to her stomach, she panicked.

The baby!

In a blind fury, Amanda unleashed one almighty strike across David’s face, knocking him backwards onto the ground where he held his head and rolled around, crying in pain. Christian pulled him up by his collar, unsympathetic of his wound.

‘Are you all right?’ asked Walter as he placed his hand on Amanda’s shoulder, struggling to find his own breath.

‘I… I couldn’t get him off me,’ Amanda muttered in mild shock.

She looked to the top of the yard where both Karen and Margaret had emerged to witness the scuffle. Margaret looked every bit as mortified as Amanda felt. Karen, by contrast, stood in utter glee.

‘I guess we can forget about those trips into town,’ scoffed Karen.

‘I couldn’t get him off me,’ Amanda repeated, as though trying to justify what she had done – to herself above anyone else.

‘Leave me alone. Leave me
alone
!’ screeched David as Christian dragged him back up the hill.

‘You must really like that room, boy!’ Christian goaded.

‘No!’ screamed David, the fear in his voice was there for everyone to hear.

Amanda paced nervously in her bedroom, adrenaline still pulsing through her veins.

‘I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I hit a child! I should’ve restrained him,’ she blurted, highly emotional.

‘Sometimes it’s difficult, my love,’ consoled Margaret.

‘But you wouldn’t have hit him, right?’ she retorted, looking towards her ally in hope.

Margaret’s silence confirmed as much.

‘I can’t do this,’ insisted Amanda. ‘I can’t look after these children.’

Margaret shut the door and grabbed her firmly by the arm. It was an uncharacteristic moment that took Amanda fully by surprise.

‘I know why you’re here,’ she said, looking the young woman straight in the eyes.

‘Wha… what do you mean?’ asked Amanda, on the back foot.

‘Come on, love. I’ve been a carer as long as I can remember and from the minute you arrived, I knew you were different. No. You wanted something else,’ said Margaret, knowingly.

Amanda frowned in the way that guilty people did when they had been caught out, partly wondering how she had been rumbled and also trying to muster another lie that would allow her to elude the truth. Margaret looked towards the wardrobe with a raised eyebrow.

Damn it!
Thought Amanda, angered by her sloppiness.
I should’ve been more careful.

‘I checked your room, dear,’ Margaret confirmed. ‘Sorry for the intrusion, but I was curious.’

‘What, uh… what do you want me to say?’ asked Amanda, somewhat sheepishly.

‘Nothing. I want you to listen,’ Margaret informed her. ‘I read your journal and you’re wrong! You hear me? The children
are
abused here. They suffer every single day,’ she admitted, sadly.

‘What?’ asked Amanda, shocked by the admission.

‘If you turn away now, it would all have been for nothing,’ she declared.

As Margaret’s words sank in, Amanda realised the enormity of her confession.

‘I’ll send for help,’ she said.

‘It won’t work!’ Margaret dismissed. ‘They’ll cover it up, just like they always do! You’ve been here for days looking for them to do something wrong and even
you
believed they were innocent.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’ asked Amanda.

‘Because it’s gone on for too long,’ she said, her words tinged with regret.

Amanda tried to clear her mind.

‘Come with me!’ Amanda suggested.

‘I can’t.’

‘We can go to the police. You can tell them everything you know!’ she encouraged.

‘Amanda, I can’t! I’m the only one who cares for these kids. I can’t leave them, even for a day. And I can’t turn against my son,’ she said, the pain and difficulty of her position threatening to tear her apart.

‘Then tell me everything you know and I’ll go and—’

‘You don’t understand. You hit David, which means he’ll think you’re one of them now. He won’t
let
you go!’ Margaret revealed.

He?

‘Who?’ asked Amanda.

Margaret did not respond.

‘Maggie, who won’t let me go?’ she repeated.

Margaret turned her back and walked towards the door, lingering in the doorway.

‘When you know the answer to that,’ she said. ‘…you’ll have all the information you need.’

And with that, she left.

Amanda’s instincts had been right. It was fate that had led her there and as she recounted all the lies and deceit that had been pushed her way, a surge of anger filtered through her body and a feeling of sheer determination washed through her.

*
 

Amanda walked around the home as she contemplated what actions to take. Now that Margaret had confided in her, every corner of the house seemed as sinister as it did on her arrival. She thought of all the details she knew to be true – a lock on each of the children’s doors, an isolation room and a host of quirky carers who had withdrawn themselves from society. The lack of visitors had given them free reign to dish out any form of treatment they saw fit and the number of bodies in the graveyard seemed to confirm their torment had often gone too far. Amanda stepped outside and looked at the land around her – hills, fields and dirt tracks for as far as the eye could see, and not a single house or person in sight that wasn’t involved in the running of the home. She could scream and shout at the top of her lungs and still nobody would hear her. As an aside, the beast that the locals spoke of could well have been the very same grisly creature she saw through the window. Amanda replayed Margaret’s warning.
“You don’t understand… He’ll think you’re one of them now… He won’t let you go!”
Was she referring to this animal and, if so, why would it be so concerned with what was happening within the home? These questions made her shudder as a cold chill ran down her spine. She considered the possibility of the beast watching her from the surrounding borders and it caused the hairs to stand up on her arms and on her neck. She looked around, paranoid and semi-manic, suddenly expecting to see a creature from out of this world stalking her.

It was clear now. She was in the middle of an incredibly dangerous situation and leaving may not be as simple as she’d first thought. Even if she could leave, she had no conclusive proof that anything was amiss within the home. Were an officer of the law to ask Margaret about what she’d revealed, there was no guarantee she would repeat it. She’d already said she couldn’t turn against her son and in any case, it would be her word against the others. She would be outnumbered by a group of cold, cunning, manipulative people who would surely react vengefully to her betrayal. Amanda couldn’t allow Margaret to be threatened. No… she had to find
something
to support her story, and as she scanned the natural prison around her, searching for inspiration, her eyes landed on Malcolm, who had again been left alone on the swing. From a distance, she studied his legs, which powered his slow but steady movement. He was capable of more than he let on. She was sure of it, and so she moved across the yard to test her theory.

‘Malcolm?’

He did not flinch.

Amanda looked back across the yard to check that nobody was watching. Walter appeared to be doing a crossword, in which he inexplicably tried to involve Gordon and Georgina, meaning they were all suitably distracted.

‘Malcom, I know you’re in there. Give me a sign you can hear me,’ she said, sounding a little desperate. ‘How can I get through to you?’ she asked, her exasperation leading her to give up early and step away.

Amanda breathed heavily, her heart pounding as the magnitude of her plight started to take a hold of her. It had been a very long time since she had cried, but through a combination of fear and frustration, she was getting close.

‘Who’s out there, Malcolm?’ she asked, more for her own benefit than his. ‘Who’s out there?’ she repeated. ‘Who’s Maggie talking about?’

It was at that moment, just as Amanda was becoming overwhelmed with helplessness and pending defeat, that she felt a hand place itself on her shoulder. She froze. No longer could she hear the squeaking of the swing, and as Malcolm leant in, he whispered a name into her ear that she had heard once before.

‘Elijah.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Checkmate
Monday 14
th
February, 1972

Amanda turned to see Malcolm looking down at her. When stood, he was even bigger than she’d realised.

‘Who’s Elijah, Malcom?’

With his face still free from expression, he turned around and reclaimed his favourite of the two swings.

‘Who’s Elijah?’

She moved towards him and looked him in the eyes but they had glazed over once more and he resumed the slow, calculated movement that seemed to relax him. Feeling he had said all he was prepared to, Amanda turned and approached Walter with intent.

‘Walt, I wondered if you would mind watching Malcolm while I spend a bit of time with these two?’ she suggested.

He looked up from his crossword puzzle and shrugged.

‘All the same to me,’ he admitted, before getting up and making his way towards the other garden.

Amanda sat on the bench next to Georgina, choosing her words carefully.

‘Whose go is it?’ she asked.

‘Georgina’s go,’ said Gordon, as though he had been waiting to answer the question all day. ‘275 days. It’s a draw.’

‘I used to play chess when I was a girl,’ Amanda added.

‘You
are
a girl!’ said Georgina.

Amanda smiled and playfully nudged Georgina with her shoulder.

‘When I was a much
younger
girl,’ she confirmed. ‘Got quite good at it, too.’

Amanda took another glance around the garden, towards the house, in particular. Believing nobody was watching, she put her hand on one of the pawns and picked it up. Georgina firmly grabbed a hold of her wrist.

‘Put it back!’ demanded Georgina in a threatening bark that took Amanda by surprise.

‘I’m sorry, but nobody was playing so I thought maybe I could have a go,’ Amanda explained.

‘Uh-oh! She touched the piece,’ said Gordon, his expression a combination of confusion and concern. ‘Uh-oh!’

‘Don’t need to move the pieces,’ argued Georgina.

‘Well, if you don’t need to move the pieces, you don’t need this one, do you?’ Amanda quipped, referring to the pawn.

‘Uh-oh!’ continued Gordon.

‘You seem like a bright girl, Georgina. Why don’t you like to talk?’ she asked.

‘‘coz I
am
bright,’ came her answer.

‘You should definitely put it down now,’ advised Gordon. ‘M-m, h-m. Put it down and walk away.’

‘I’ll make you a deal,’ Amanda teased.

‘What?’ asked Georgina with interest.

‘If you let go of my arm, I’ll tell you.’

Georgina took a moment before letting go. Bright white finger marks remained imprinted over a temporary patch of salmon-pink skin. Amanda studied it for a moment before retracting her arm, wisely leaving the pawn on the board.

‘I was just talking to Malcolm, and—’

‘He wouldn’t talk to you!’ Georgina interrupted.

‘Oh really?’ asked Amanda, curiously. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because you’re one of
them
,’ confirmed the girl.

‘One of who?’ pressed Amanda.

‘You hit David!’ accused Georgina.

This perhaps explained why Georgina had become so snippy towards her, but more importantly, the child’s words echoed Margaret’s recent caution.

‘Uh-oh!’

‘Do people hit you?’ Amanda asked of the children.

Neither of them answered.

‘Gord… do people hit you sometimes?’ she repeated, targeting the child she believed to be the most likely source of information.

‘No. People don’t hit me, no. Definitely not,’ he replied, his response seeming genuine.

Amanda thought hard.

‘Does Malcolm talk to you?’ she asked, again aimed at Gordon.

‘Sometimes… yah!’ he answered.

‘
Gord!
’ Georgina snapped.

‘Uh-oh!’

‘Does Malcolm ever talk to you about… you know…
him
?’ Amanda furthered.

‘Who?’ asked Georgina.

‘You know who,’ stated Amanda, confidently.

‘I think she knows,’ Gordon observed. ‘Yah, I definitely do.’

‘She doesn’t know,’ argued Georgina. ‘She
can’t!
’

‘Yah! I definitely think she knows,’ he countered. ‘Uh-huh!’

‘What do you know about him?’ Amanda ventured.

Georgina tried her best to act aloof, to which Amanda responded by leaning in and talking under her breath, creating the illusion they were all part of a big secret.

‘Elijah,’ she revealed.

Georgina was stunned to hear her say the name, forcing her into a thoughtful silence.

‘I want to help you, but I need you to talk to me,’ Amanda admitted.

‘He’s always there,’ began Georgina. ‘Watching…’

‘Yah!’ agreed Gordon.

‘He wants to help, too… but he’s scared,’ continued Georgina.

‘We’re all scared,’ added Gordon.

‘What’s Elijah scared of?’ asked Amanda.

Georgina’s pigmented eyes looked directly into Amanda’s with a level of intensity that gave her chills.

‘Open your eyes, Amanda!’ said Georgina, gruffly. ‘He’s afraid of
them
!’

‘Yah! We’re all afraid of them,’ supported Gordon.

Suddenly, a loud smashing noise came from the house, as though a thousand shards of glass were dancing on the ground. It was followed by the most harrowing of screams.

Amanda rushed inside and made her way to the first floor landing, where Christian blocked Margaret’s path to Reuben and Georgina’s bedroom. From next door, Ellie could be heard screaming manically, although her cries were being largely ignored.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Amanda, completely perplexed.

‘What are you doing here?’ snapped Christian, his eyes studying the empty staircase behind her. ‘Where are the children?’

Amanda was drawn to the soft movement coming from the bedroom over Christian’s shoulder. She tried to peek around him through the small crack of the door, to which he responded by pulling it shut.

‘Is Reuben okay?’ asked Amanda, having completely ignored his question.

Christian grabbed her shoulders, tenderly but firmly.

‘Listen to me,’ he began, gently shaking the distraction from out of her. ‘Listen! You
have
to go and protect the children. Now! Bring them into the house and stay together. If they’re outside, they’re not safe!’ he said, gravely.

Finally, she noted the seriousness of the situation.

‘What’s happening?’ she whimpered.

‘Just go!’ he shouted. ‘And you Mum. Go with her.
Now
!’

The combination of intrigue, fear and dread that both Margaret and Amanda felt was overpowered by the urgency with which Christian spoke. They knew that, above anything else, they must act… and fast. Together, they turned and ran down the staircase. Once out of sight, the worry that Christian portrayed on his face disappeared and calmly, he turned around and opened the door to Reuben and Georgina’s room. Shattered glass lay on the floor beneath the window. On the walls, the unmistakable claret of blood had splattered in unquantifiable amounts. Walter cradled Karen in his arms, offering strength to the woman who, at that moment, having buckled on her faltering knees, seemed to have none. Beneath Karen, small blotches of blood were drizzled across the floor like a Jackson Pollock painting, slowly soaking into the wood. The blood did not belong to her. Walter rocked with her gently, like a parent trying to comfort an unhappy child, although she did not seem particularly upset. In fact, she didn’t really appear to harbour any overwhelming emotions. She was simply vacant. Walter moved his hands to hold his wife’s head, drawing her gaze to meet his.

‘Tell me it was him,’ he said, speaking more in hope than expectation.

‘Of course it was,’ she said, calmly. ‘Who else would it be?’

Walter looked to Christian, the two men exchanging uncertain glances before Christian surveyed the room.

‘I’ll have Arthur clean this up,’ were the words that eventually left his mouth.

*

Downstairs, the nervous energy possessed by Margaret and Amanda had made its way into the children, who they had gathered in the kitchen. All doors and windows had been bolted shut and, collectively, the residents sat on tenterhooks.

‘Do you have any idea what happened?’ Amanda asked of Margaret, under her breath.

Margaret’s unrest was clear and fell so deep that she was unable to speak. She simply shook her head and waited in silence.

‘Who’s Elijah?’ Amanda prodded.

Margaret looked worriedly towards the children.

‘We don’t have time to be sensitive!’ Amanda exerted. ‘If you want me to help, I need to know.’

Margaret took a moment to consider the request but just as she seemed ready to speak, Christian entered the room surrounded by an aura of darkness.

‘I have some terrible news,’ he began.

Amanda’s heart skipped a beat. It was as though she were in the midst of an accident that she could see unfolding before her, like a car crash in slow-motion that she was powerless to prevent.

‘Reuben died in his sleep,’ he said.

The words Christian had uttered were so great in magnitude and so completely lacking in sense that the reality simply didn’t register. Amanda’s silence was shared by all else in the room. Margaret turned away, her hands covering her mouth as she cried silent tears.

Georgina lowered her head, crestfallen.

Although Malcolm remained physically unaffected, Amanda felt certain she could see sadness in his eyes.

Gordon developed a deep frown as he tried to process the information.

‘No more Reuben?’ he asked, in a heartbreakingly innocent way.

‘No more Reuben,’ replied Christian, sensitively.

Finally, as Amanda absorbed the sorrow that surrounded her, something began to happen. She felt tingles creep through her body as though her blood were transforming into small metal pins.

No more Reuben? But how can that be? I sat and played cards with him only hours ago!

Georgina sobbed, prompting Margaret to approach, rubbing her shoulder and caressing her hair in the same way she always did when the girl needed to be comforted, but this time, it didn’t work. It wasn’t long before Margaret was bent double over the girl, their bodies shuddering in unison as they shared tears over the terrible news. This was no nightmare from which Amanda would awake but a cold, hard reality that had paralysed her in a way she had never known before.

‘H-how?’ was all Amanda could force from her dry mouth.

‘He was having a nap in his room and it appears he swallowed his tongue,’ replied Christian, calmly.

‘I heard something smash…?’ Amanda added.

‘Yes. Karen went in to check on him and when she saw his body, she was so upset, she lashed out,’ he claimed.

‘But, he… it doesn’t…’

Amanda’s words deserted her. The grief finally kicked in as a mixture of disappointment and sadness blurred her mind and she too began to cry.

‘I’ll make some calls,’ Christian informed them, dutifully. ‘We’ll hold a service as soon as possible.’

Within the bleakness, Amanda found a moment of clarity. Her face revealed as much as she looked towards the ground floor hallway. Without saying a word, she walked away from everyone. Her actions appeared peculiar to Margaret, who could tell that the young woman was carrying a strange energy.

‘Amanda?’ asked Margaret, weakly.

She didn’t respond. Instead, she took slow, calculated steps towards the corridor, walking past the staircase as she journeyed down the hall. Slowly, but noticeably, her legs gathered momentum. Christian followed her, seeming bewildered as he observed her actions. Margaret stepped out into the hallway, also.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Georgina, panicked.

‘It’s alright, my lovely,’ Margaret claimed in as reassuring a voice as she could find. ‘You stay here.’

‘Uh-oh!’ added Gordon, making clear his obvious worry.

Amanda approached the front door, unlocking the latch.

‘I wouldn’t do that,’ warned Christian, but to little effect.

Margaret waddled towards Amanda, grabbing her by the arm.

‘What are you doing, my love?’ she asked, softly and under her breath. ‘I told you. You
can’t
leave!’

Amanda looked towards Margaret. Her eyes were blank. Her expressions were disjointed. Margaret no longer recognised the person standing before her.

‘Let it try and stop me,’ she gnarled.

During the many years Margaret had occupied the home, she had seen it discourage many a person’s purity, eating away at the goodness of their soul like a virus hell-bent on destruction.  Sadly, it appeared Amanda may be no different as she threatened to snap under the strain that consumed her. Amanda’s mental state concerned Margaret greatly, so much so that she stepped away due to her own illogical fear that insanity was infectious. Amanda twisted the handle and the door creaked as she pulled it open. She looked outside and puffed out her chest as she took strides towards the car park and then beyond.