The Removal Man Page 3

  Noah was on his knees.

  ‘What’s that?’

  His body shifted slightly but his beam was pointing away so there was little light to work out what he was doing.

  The murmuring got louder.

  ‘Shine your light back here. I can’t see.’

  It was suddenly in her face, and she squinted against it.

  A harsh buzz as Noah shuffled in front of her.

  Rose put her hand to her eyes. ‘What are you doing?’

  Voices emerged from the static again. It was a radio.

  The light dropped to the floor and Rose could make out Noah as he turned and sat at the end of the tent and shone the beam onto Lucas’s digital radio.

  ‘I thought we’d packed that away.’ Rose moved inside the tent and crawled forward on her stomach so her face was by Noah’s knees.

  Noah shone the torch under his chin so his features looked scary.

  ‘It’s too late to be listening to that now. You should have been asleep hours ago.’ But she still didn’t know what time it was. It felt late.

  Noah didn’t answer, just kept the torch under his chin.

  Rose could hear his breathing.

  ‘Noah Dunbar, don’t do that or I’m going straight back in.’

  Noah held the position for a little while longer and then directed the light at the radio. ‘If I leave it on, we won’t be able to hear any noises outside.’

  ‘Is that sensible? If someone is out there, we don’t want them to catch us unawares.’

  Noah considered that for a moment and then switched off the two chatting voices.

  What was she doing? She didn’t want to scare him all over again. His reaction had given her a small dose of satisfaction though. Lucas used to do a thing she hated when they went to bed. He’d turn off the light but not get under the duvet. He’d just stand there by the light switch breathing and not answering her. It freaked her out and, at some point, Noah had started doing it to her too.

  ‘Not that there is anybody out there, though,’ she added dismissively. ‘I think we’ve established that beyond doubt.’

  Noah rested the penlight on top of the radio so it illuminated them both. ‘I definitely heard something.’

  ‘I’m not saying you didn’t. It was probably in the forest though. Sound plays tricks at night. Take your slippers off and get back in your sleeping bag.’

  Noah obeyed and a few moments later, he was snuggled up with the edge of his indigo sleeping bag under his chin.

  ‘You look like a blue snake.’

  He smiled broadly and Rose draped a blanket over both of them.

  ‘You don’t have a pillow.’ His face wrinkled in concern.

  ‘That’s OK.’ She rested her head on her palm. She couldn’t possibly sleep here.

  Noah closed his eyes.

  It never took him long to fall asleep once he’d run out of negotiating power or was, as now, overcome by exhaustion.

  She watched him for a while but didn’t move. She’d give it a few minutes and then she’d turn off the light. Then another few before she slid herself out of the tent. She was pretty comfortable now. They hadn’t slept in the same bed since he was five. Maybe she should make the most of it as long as her back allowed her. Those three glasses of wine were certainly helping…

  Rose listened as his breathing got louder and shallower, then turned off the penlight and decided to close her eyes for just a few moments.

  A low whimper.

  Rose opened them, the smell of cut grass and earth suddenly pungent. She blinked at the darkness and it felt like there were small pieces of gravel under her eyelids. Hay fever misery. That’s why she hated camping trips. She was ten again, waking in the night and not knowing if she was alone or not.

  A short intake of breath from nearby.

  Rose sat upright. So her mother had come back. She’d told her that she would be back for dinner, but Rose had heated some beans and sausages in a saucepan over the gas stove and eaten on her own before putting herself to bed. There had been a few other families staying on the muddy site but they all had young children. Nobody her age. It hadn’t bothered her. She had her library books with her and she’d passed the evening in her sleeping bag with a yellowing Daphne du Maurier. She’d gone to sleep at about nine when there had still been no sign of her mother. She’d said she was heading into the nearby village for an hour, but Rose knew what that meant. She would come back smelling of wine and wearing that sickly grin she always had to conceal her irresponsible parenting.

  Since Rose’s father had died, family life had fallen apart quickly and this last-minute trip had been no exception. Things had got thrown into the back of the car on Friday and it was away to the countryside – a place where Rose’s antihistamines fought a losing battle. Rose didn’t want a holiday. Didn’t feel they should have one so soon after the funeral. She was happy to stay at home, but her mother seemed to believe that sleeping in claustrophobic nylon wasp catchers was somehow compensation for her previous bad behaviour.

  She kept the canary yellow sleeping bag gathered at her chin but slid out of the zip door and stood up in it, shuffling towards her mother’s tent that was pitched beside hers.

  It sounded like her mother was crying again. She’d caught her in the past when she didn’t think Rose was listening. But when she drank, there was no attempt to conceal it. It was distressing to see her like that – so vulnerable and oblivious to how it affected Rose. But now she’d seen it so many times she just went through the motions. Probably because she realised that the tears weren’t for her father. It was self-pity. Her mother still hadn’t accepted how much their life had changed. Rose had no choice but to become the grown-up.

  The sound stopped.

  So did Rose. Her feet halted their shuffle in the sleeping bag.

  ‘Rose?’

  She didn’t answer. She knew her mother didn’t want her daughter to see her like this.

  Rose turned back in the direction of her own tent.

  ‘That you?’

  She started to pad back.

  ‘It’s OK. She’s asleep.’

  Rose halted and turned. Who was she talking to?

  A murmur in response. A man.

  Rose edged back.

  ‘She won’t hear.’ The man’s reassurance.

  It was a smudgy voice. Just like her mother’s after she’d been drinking the sloe gin she made at home.

  Rose couldn’t stop herself. Her father hadn’t been dead five months.

  As she parted the doors, she could see the impostor sprawled naked over her mother. Her mother’s eyes opened. She saw Rose standing there, her dull regard on her for what felt like minutes while the stranger heaved away. Then she just closed them again, as if Rose’s presence couldn’t have been of smaller consequence.

  Rose opened her eyes into darkness and the hay fever grit had evaporated. She released a breath, heard Noah’s soft exhalations follow it. She wondered how long she’d fallen asleep with her son. A few minutes? A couple of hours? Clearly being in the tent with the smell of the lawn and earth in her nostrils had prompted the unwanted memory.

  Noah continued to snore.

  Could she slip out unnoticed and return to the house to get her phone and another pillow?

  A long slow dragging noise interrupted the thought. It sounded like it was right outside the tent.

  Chapter Eight

  Rose raised her head from her palm and listened.

  Nothing.

  She tugged at the blanket so her ear was exposed to the cold air and held her breath. After remaining motionless for a full minute, she couldn’t pick up the noise again. Her gaze flicked to Noah. His breathing had stopped. In the dingy light, she focused on his dark sockets and heard his eyelashes brush against his pillow as he blinked. He was awake.

  ‘You heard it too?’

  ‘Ssshhh.’ Rose strained for the sound. It couldn’t have been her circulation, the pressure of her ear on her hand. It was t
oo loud.

  ‘I told you.’

  Rose pushed herself into a sitting position. It had sounded close. Very close. But the lawn had definitely been empty when they’d entered the tent. She fumbled for the penlight, and it clattered off the top of the radio.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Noah whispered.

  ‘I’m going to take a look.’ Her circulation pumped fast in her temple as she cast the blanket aside, clicked on the penlight and crawled to the slit of the door. She wanted to zip it up tight. Instead, she paused there and waited.

  ‘What can you see?’ Noah didn’t move.

  The circle of light was on the open flaps of the tent. She parted them with her fingers and extended her arm, so the trunk of the bay tree was lit up. Rose waved the light from side to side again but there was nothing amongst the rose bushes at the base of the rear wall. Was there an animal skulking nearby? She could just hear the low hiss of the traffic on the main road and that other unidentifiable rumble of night. Wind? Aeroplanes? When it was dark, the neighbourhood had a different sound all its own.

  A dog barked aggressively far off but fell silent. That was from the kennels. They were over three miles away but on a windless evening you could hear them like they were next door.

  She had to leave the tent. Just stand and shine the torch back towards the house. There’s nothing there.

  ‘I’ll go with you.’

  She could feel the cold air clasp her face. ‘No. Stay cosied up. I’ll just be a second.’ Rose remembered the knife in her pocket. She didn’t want to take it out in front of Noah again, but it was good to know it was there. She tensed the muscles in her stomach and took her weight on her knees as she stood up and went out. Turning her body, she quickly pinged the beam of the torch around the lawn.

  Nothing. No eyes of an animal caught in the light. No sign of anything.

  The house looked so inviting. But she was here now. Hopefully that meant she wouldn’t be expected to camp out tomorrow. See it through for Noah. Maybe he’d want to go back into the warmth as much as she did now though.

  ‘Anything?’ His voice tremored.

  ‘All clear.’ She turned and slid herself backwards into the tent again.

  ‘You definitely heard it though?’

  ‘Yes. I did.’ Rose didn’t lie down again but pulled the blanket around her where she sat cross-legged next to Noah. She positioned the penlight back on top of the radio.

  ‘See. I wasn’t making it up,’ he said, no longer whispering.

  ‘I didn’t say you were. Perhaps it was something burrowing under the ground. A rabbit or a mole.’ But she understood why it had frightened Noah. It had sounded so close.

  They both sat in silence for a couple of minutes, seeing if it came again.

  No dragging sound.

  ‘I don’t think I’m going to sleep now,’ Noah eventually declared.

  ‘Just close your eyes. You were snoring a minute ago.’ Rose knew how grouchy Noah got if his sleep was interrupted.

  ‘I’ll stay awake with you.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ve already had some shut eye. Do you want to go in?’

  He shook his head once.

  As pigheaded as his Dad. ‘Should I switch off the light?’

  ‘No,’ he said sharply. ‘Leave it on.’

  ‘OK.’ She was glad he wanted that. This is crazy. You’re meant to be the adult. ‘Let’s talk for a bit then.’

  Noah nodded.

  It was clear he was prepared to do anything other than go to sleep and Rose was happy to take advantage. They used to have such good chats but lately Noah had got increasingly attached to his laptop and, even though she rationed his use of it, he spent much of the time he wasn’t on it talking about how his friends were allowed more screen time than he was. ‘What shall we talk about?’

  ‘Dad.’

  ‘OK,’ she agreed uncertainly. He hadn’t asked the inevitable since Wednesday. It was never an easy conversation for either of them. ‘What about Dad?’

  ‘Why doesn’t he want to see me?’

  Chapter Nine

  ‘You know that’s not true.’ But that was becoming increasingly difficult to justify.

  ‘It’s been nearly three weeks.’

  It had been and Rose knew he counted the days. ‘He knows how busy you are with school,’ she improvised feebly.

  Noah fixed her with a cynical expression way beyond his years, eyelids drooped.

  ‘I’ll speak to him tomorrow though.’ Rose said it like the situation could change but she’d said that so many times before.

  He sighed at her familiar stalling tactic.

  ‘How about some hot chocolate?’

  Noah’s face brightened but suspicion lingered. He knew she was misdirecting him. ‘OK.’

  ‘I will speak to him tomorrow.’ She felt like she was deceiving him.

  ‘With marshmallows?’ He was letting her off the hook.

  ‘Have you ever known me to make it any other way?’ She started to crawl back to the door of the tent.

  ‘You can tell me if he doesn’t want to see me.’

  His pained expression was too much to bear. She crawled back to him. ‘Of course he does. Never think that. All right?’

  He nodded but didn’t seem convinced.

  ‘Look at me,’ she said sternly. ‘There’s nobody he’d rather see.’

  ‘Honest to God?’

  She was about to rebuke him but stopped herself. ‘Remember when you broke your leg and Hazeem wanted to visit you here?’

  ‘I know what you’re going to say.’

  ‘You didn’t want Hazeem to see you with your leg in plaster.’

  ‘That was different.’

  It was. Hazeem was permanently in a wheelchair and her son had said he felt embarrassed for his friend to see him in one because Noah would only need it for a couple of months. ‘It is kind of the same. Can you understand that your dad always wants to be strong for you? Like he’s always been.’

  ‘Yes,’ Noah said flatly.

  ‘He just wants to get better first.’

  ‘But he may never get better.’

  That was the first time Noah had ever said that. Even though it was true, it was something she thought she’d protected him from. She felt her throat tighten but fought it back. ‘We never give up hope. And your father wants to get strong for you.’ She kept her voice steady. ‘That’s why he thinks about you every day. You’re his reason for getting better.’

  Noah looked down at his sleeping bag and nodded again.

  ‘So you have to be strong for him too.’

  He didn’t look up.

  ‘I will speak to him, I promise. You’ll see him soon, but you’ll just have to be patient. We all have to be patient, like Doctor Woodhouse said.’

  She knew why he was talking about his father. It would have been the two of them out here tonight. Lucas would make it a proper adventure. Noah loved her but she was no replacement for the male bonding that would normally be going on.

  ‘And where’s Grandma?’

  Indeed. Where was Grandma? After Rose’s father had died of leukaemia when she was ten, her mother had gone permanently off the rails. There’d been a lot of guilt because she’d been unfaithful to Rose’s father during his illness and from then on, she’d pulled a series of disappearing acts throughout Rose’s life, particularly when things got tough. True to form, she’d vanished with her new boyfriend soon after Lucas had gone into hospital. It was the one occasion Rose could really have used her support, but she’d long ago resigned herself to her mother’s capriciousness.

  ‘She’ll be in touch… when she’s ready.’ Or when she needed money. The last time she’d said she’d needed the deposit for a house, but it had turned out to be a fund for her boyfriend’s rehab.

  ‘She promised to take me camping.’

  ‘She’s promised a lot of things.’ They would have to leave it there. She wouldn’t allow her to spoil their weekend. ‘OK,
you coming to get this hot chocolate with me?’ She knew what his answer would be.

  Noah pulled his sleeping bag tighter around him to demonstrate how comfortable he was.

  ‘I thought so, you lazy rat. Give me five. If you’re still awake when I get back—’

  ‘I will be.’

  She didn’t doubt it. ‘If you’re still awake, I’ll tell you the story about the couple lost in the woods…’ She had no idea what that would be.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Couple lost in the woods?’

  It sounded pretty vague to her, but she had the time it took the milk to boil to come up with something. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you in the dark.’ She knew that was a red rag. Lucas had scared Noah with an urban legend about a murderer with a hook hand on their first lake camping trip and he’d been terrified, even when Lucas insisted it had all been make-believe. Now Noah lapped them up to prove he wasn’t afraid. But she knew he still was.

  ‘Back soon. Stay warm.’ Were creepy stories really wise? It had certainly distracted him from an uncomfortable conversation, but she wasn’t giving herself any points for that.

  Rose pulled herself out of the tent and stood. She couldn’t deny that she was still feeling uneasy. Perhaps it was the two awakenings she’d had. And now she had to cobble a story together to tell Noah. Not too frightening and nothing to do with ghosts. Noah was terrified by that idea. What could her story be about?

  She headed back to the house and shivered against the icy air. Her breath clouded ahead of her but there was no chance of luring Noah back indoors. She’d get her phone and a spare jumper and lock the double glazing. The back door was still bolted. Maybe a story about a couple finding treasure in the woods. Cursed treasure. Keep it tame.

  A crow rustily squawked in a treetop.

  Rose reached the double-glazed doors but stopped as a movement in her peripheral vision caused her to look up at Noah’s bedroom window.

  The light wasn’t on in there, but it was dimly lit by the bulb on the landing.

  Somebody had been standing at the pane and had quickly shifted away. She’d seen their dark silhouette and the pale flash of their face.