I recognise that stupid rhyme from my childhood, so I know the voices are only teasing me – for now. If I get away from the girl, they won’t escalate, I’m sure they won’t. Oh no, she’s calling my name.
‘Rory, Rory, hold on a minute. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.’
I don’t want to meet anybody. I don’t like meeting folk. They always want me to think about when I found … I shake my head. I’m not going to think about it. Not today.
‘Yes, you will, Rory, you always think about it, that’s why you draw them spinning above your head, dangling on their ropes.’
‘Stop it. Stop it! Stop it!’ I can’t help it, the words slip out and from the corner of my eye, I notice the girl stop. Her face has that concerned frown on it and I want to tell her I’m sorry. That I wasn’t shouting at her, but then I remember she stole my drawings. That’s why I have to hide these ones. These are the ones Jimmy asked me to draw and she can’t have them.
I scurry away to my room. But the voices come back and they’re not nice. It’s not the lavender voice, it’s one of the others. ‘She’s a bitch, Rory. She should dangle from a rope.’
‘No. No! No…’
I get into my room and slam the door behind me, and I can barely breathe. I need to hide them, need to hide them to keep them safe for Jimmy. They’ll be here soon, the girl and the other two. No locks on the door. I need to be quick. Where can I hide them?
I rush over and yank the mattress up. I’ll hide them in my folder, beside the other sketches. But I need to be quick.
‘Run, Rory, Run, Rory … Run!Run!Run!’
But there’s nowhere to run. When the knock comes, I jump up, and holding just my pencils I lean against the back door, waiting. I know they don’t want permission. They come in whenever they want, that’s why there’s no locks.
Another rap and she’s calling through the door. ‘Rory, I’m going to open the door now, OK? I’ve brought someone who has been waiting a long time to see you. We’re coming in now.’
What if they take me away before I can give the drawings to Jimmy? I promised him I’d do them. I didn’t want to – not really. I wanted to draw the garden today, but he pleaded and he’s my friend, so I said OK.
I can’t do anything though, because she’s opening the door. I try not to look at them. But one of them, the older woman comes towards me, while the other two hang back at the door. The girl is smiling, but the man has a frown on his face and his hands thrust into his pockets. For a second, he reminds me of Jimmy and my shoulders relax a little.
The older woman comes closer, she takes slow steps and stops a few feet away from me. I can see her toes in her sandals, but I don’t look up at her.
‘She’ll steal your drawings, Rory. Watch out she’ll steal them. Run!Run!Run!’
Shaking my head from side to side I try to make them to stop. I bite my lip because I don’t want the visitors to know I hear the other voices. But then she speaks – the older woman with the sandals on her feet.
‘Don’t you recognise me, Rory? I hope you haven’t forgotten me. I haven’t forgotten you.’
I look up. Her face is older, wrinkled, her hair’s grey and shorter than when we were children. But her eyes tell me it really is her. ‘Coco?’
My voice comes out all hoarse and scratchy. She smiles and nods. I rush past her and see the younger man move forward. He thinks I’m going to hurt her. Hurt my Coco. I glare at him and that’s when I notice his eyes. Coco’s son. I move to my bookshelves and pull down my sketchbooks. I know the one I want. It has three hundred and thirty-five drawings in it. It should have three hundred and forty, but she – I glance at the girl with the dark hair – stole them. I place it on the bed and then step away from it, my back against the bookshelf this time.
Coco looks at me, still smiling.
‘Don’t trust her. Don’t trust her, Rory.She left you before, you can’t trust her.’
I clasp my arms over my head, forcing the voices to be quiet.
‘Rory, I can come back later, if you need time?’
Coco’s voice sings like it always did. I was so pleased when she spoke to me. First, before anyone else. I shake my head.
She steps closer and I can smell lavender. Just like Mum.
She approaches the bed and gestures to the thick sketch pad. ‘Can I look?’
I nod, still with my hands over my ears, ignoring the muffled, ‘Don’t let her see them, don’t let her in, Rory. You can’t trust her.’
She opens it to the first page and then gasps. My heart almost stops. Have I done something wrong? But then she’s looking at me, her hands clasped at her chest and tears running down her cheeks. ‘Rory, you drew me.’
She looks back at the book and flicks through the pages, one by one. Her smile gets bigger, but her tears keep falling and she keeps wiping them away. Finally, she turns to me. ‘I’ve missed you, Rory. Really missed you.’
I smile back and go to get another sketchbook for her to look at.
Chapter 68
Scotland
With so much running through his mind, Gus resorted to his usual stress buster. Leaving his mum and Sadia with Dr Carlton he took his mum’s car and drove to Lanark Loch. Parking up, he got out, already in his jogging kit and did his warmup exercises. The loch reminded him in some ways of the lake in
