Mercy Point Read online

Page 15


  ‘How should I start it?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know, Hi, guys?’ suggested Sam.

  ‘My father would not say guys,’ Michael said, his voice cold.

  ‘How about Dear and then their names?’ offered Fabian.

  ‘Feels a bit formal,’ Michael said, his voice noticeably softer. ‘My dad thinks everyone is beneath him. If your parents were friends with him, then they would know that.’

  ‘Start it with nothing, then. Just launch right into it,’ said Tessie.

  ‘Yeah, good idea. That sounds like him.’

  ‘Start with I know it’s been a while since we last spoke,’ said Emma, and smiled as Michael began typing what she said, ‘but I feel that it is time we addressed this issue.’

  ‘That’s awesome, Emma!’ said Sam.

  ‘It’s good,’ agreed Tessie. ‘Nice and vague.’

  ‘What next?’ Michael asked.

  ‘Umm . . .’ She tried to think of what that nasty red-faced man she’d seen with Michael in the supermarket would say. ‘How about, please come to my house at one-thirty this Saturday.’

  ‘To discuss!’ added Fabian.

  ‘Perfect,’ said Michael.

  ‘What if they reply?’ asked Tessie. ‘Then he’ll see what we’ve written.’

  They stood in silence, watching the cursor blink.

  ‘Please do not reply to this email,’ Emma said slowly, ‘as my son uses this computer and might see it.’

  ‘Fantastic!’ said Michael as he typed. ‘Okay, are we ready?’

  He put the mouse over the ‘send’ button and then stopped, looking around at them.

  ‘Do it,’ said Tessie, her voice flat.

  ‘And with that exhibition of wild enthusiasm, let’s do this crazy thing,’ Michael said and clicked down on the ‘send’ button. They all laughed, even Tessie.

  Michael went into his father’s ‘sent’ folder and deleted the email, while Fabian wrote a similar email to Michael’s father from his mum’s phone, saying they were coming over to talk. He made a point of saying how he’d stolen it from her bag this morning, which was weird. It didn’t seem like something he would do, but one of them had to, Emma supposed.

  ‘That was almost too easy,’ said Emma.

  ‘Nah, it was awesome!’ Sam said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Yeah, how’d you know how to talk like my dad?’ Michael asked.

  ‘Hmm . . . I tried to sound like a real bully. I guess I just imagined what you’ll be talking like in thirty years,’ she said.

  Michael looked down with a jolt, as though she’d slapped him. He turned away from them, back to the screen. Emma looked around; everyone was looking from her to him. They always made little digs at each other, so why was he acting like she’d hurt his feelings? As if he even cared what she thought of him.

  ‘I gotta go,’ she said. ‘See you guys tomorrow.’

  Emma turned on her heel and walked out of the room and down the stairs. Annoyance had already begun to gnaw at her stomach. She could always rely on Michael to make her feel crappy, no matter what she did. She took one more look around the house as she reached the front door and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine. This really wasn’t what she’d pictured Michael’s life to be like. For a moment, a thought came into her mind that perhaps the idea she had of Michael was wrong. That she didn’t really know much about him at all. She shook off the thought and closed the door behind her, deciding to leave all thoughts of Michael locked in his creepy, silent house.

  She hadn’t even reached the gate when the front door opened again. She thought it would be Michael, chasing after her to make sure she wouldn’t get the last word. Weirdly, she felt a tug of disappointment when it was Sam who stepped out of the house. That wasn’t right. She liked Sam and hated Michael. But then again, she always felt like she was disappointing Sam. If he was following her now in order to have a go at her for what she’d said to Michael, she’d be really angry.

  ‘Can I walk with you?’

  She shrugged. ‘Yeah, of course.’

  They went through the gate and out onto the main road. The wind had picked up while they were inside. It lashed against Emma’s jacket and made her hair fly around her face.

  ‘It mustn’t be much fun to camp in this,’ she said, more for something to say than anything else. Really, she kind of wanted to be alone.

  ‘No, it’s not, really. Sometimes it’s too cold to sleep.’

  ‘You must be sort of wishing you were back home?’

  ‘Yeah, but it won’t be long —’

  Emma turned to him. It wasn’t so much what he’d said, but the way he’d broken off so abruptly that made Emma stop in her tracks. The annoyance she’d been feeling trickled away.

  ‘You mean you’re planning on going home soon?’

  She knew he’d have to go home eventually, but she hadn’t thought it would be anytime soon. He’d made it seem like he wasn’t in any hurry to get back.

  ‘Well, yeah. I mean, I can’t stay here forever.’

  ‘When will you go?’

  ‘Not yet. It’ll be after we have some answers, but I think that’ll be soon.’

  She turned away from him and started walking again. She didn’t want the hurt she was feeling to show.

  ‘That’s good. Your mum will be happy.’

  ‘Ash?’ He smiled warmly. ‘Yeah, she’ll be thrilled.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  They walked in silence for a moment, the wind pushing into her. She should be happy for him. What had she expected? That he’d stick around forever?

  ‘Well, I’ll miss you.’

  Sam laughed and put an arm around her, pulling her into him for a second. His jacket smelled of wet wool and ash, but under that he smelled like soap.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Emma, it won’t be a goodbye. You guys are my family now.’

  ‘Really?’ She looked up at him, at the light stubble that prickled his jaw.

  ‘Of course.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Although I think we should all be making more of an effort to get along. We need each other.’

  So this was about Michael. She pulled away from him.

  ‘I know what you’re talking about. But it’s not that easy. Michael and I have history. You can’t just pretend that didn’t happen.’

  ‘And you think that being cruel to him is the best way to fix that?’

  She stopped and stared at him. ‘I wasn’t being cruel. It was meant to be a joke.’

  ‘He didn’t take it that way.’

  ‘Who cares? Well, you do, obviously. It seems you care more about making sure we stick together than you do about me being happy.’

  He shrugged. ‘That’s probably true.’

  ‘Sorry? You’re saying you don’t care if I’m miserable as long as I go along with the group?’

  His eyes flashed. ‘You have no idea about misery. Don’t talk about things you couldn’t even begin to understand.’

  ‘What? And you do?’

  The look in his eyes was so intense she took a step backwards. But then, out of nowhere, the expression disappeared and his face split into a grin. ‘I just like it better when we’re united, you know? It’d be so much more fun for everyone if we made an effort.’

  ‘You mean if I made an effort?’

  He opened his mouth to say something, but she’d heard enough.

  ‘You know, I thought you were cool, Sam. But you are so obsessed with keeping the peace it’s starting to get annoying. Michael and I will always fight, that’s just what we do. Let us work it out between us.’

  Then she turned on her heel and walked in the other direction, hoping he hadn’t noticed how close she was to tears.

  When she got home, she changed straight into her pyjamas, turned her hearing aids off and tried to distract herself on her computer. All her tabs were still open about Russian spies and she closed them one at a time. She’d stayed up late last night getting it finished, and it hadn’t tur
ned out as good as it could have been. Usually, she’d never leave it until the night before to finish an assignment. It was such an interesting subject; if she hadn’t been so distracted, she could have written something really good. She looked at one of the articles that she hadn’t even had time to read last night. It was an interview with one of the sleeper agent’s children. As she read it, she tried to read between the lines, figure out if on some level their kids had known that everything about their parent had been a lie. She forced herself to close the window and turn off her screen. She spun around in the chair, thinking about the last thing she should be thinking about: Michael’s face when she’d said that thing about her dad. It’d come out sounding meaner than she’d intended; she knew that as soon as she’d said it. But still, she hadn’t expected it to hurt his feelings like that. They’d both said worse things than that to one another. She didn’t know why this one had landed so badly.

  Her phone vibrated against her hip. It was Sam. She almost didn’t want to open the message. Sam had really annoyed her today. I mean, she didn’t even know him, why was she letting him get to her so much? She’d thought maybe he’d cared about her, but it seemed like he didn’t. He seemed to care more about making sure everyone was best buddies than he did about her in particular. It made her feel really foolish. Still, she didn’t want to leave him hanging. She opened the message. He’d sent her a picture of a puppy with big sad eyes and the words ‘I’m sowwy’ written above its head. Despite everything, it made her laugh. She sighed and typed her own message.

  PumpkinDreams: Me too.

  But part of her wasn’t so sure if he even meant it. She got into bed and turned off her light, although she knew she’d never sleep. By the time she was in this bed tomorrow night, she might finally know who she was and where she’d come from.

  CHAPTER 19

  FABIAN

  Today was the day of the Winter Magic Festival, which meant today was the day that they were doing one of the craziest things Fabian had ever done. He hid in his room; he couldn’t face his parents today. Once it reached eleven, there was a soft little knock on his door.

  ‘Do you need a lift to the festival?’ his mum asked. He knew she was making sure he was out of the house before they went next door.

  ‘No thanks, I’m going to ride there now,’ he said, getting up. When he walked past her, she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a half-smile.

  ‘We’ll see you there later, then. We might stop off to do some shopping beforehand,’ she said, and he felt a pang of guilt for causing her to lie.

  ‘Okay,’ he said.

  Walking down the stairs, he stared at the family portraits on the wall and remembered when he had noticed it for the first time a few years ago. His parents and sisters were so clearly a family — they all shared similar noses, chins, eye colour and hair colour. Not him. It was so obvious. He looked absolutely nothing like any of them.

  He felt better when he was out in the fresh air. Unlocking his bike, he noticed his hands looked worse than before; they were blue underneath the fingernails. He wasn’t even cold, it made no sense. There was enough for him to worry about today, he decided. He jumped on his bike and rode onto the road, then did a quick loop up the far side of Michael’s house.

  ‘No, it looks good! Katy Perry is cool.’ He heard Michael laugh.

  ‘Just shut up, alright?’ Emma’s voice.

  He leaned his bike around the back of the house and went into the kitchen, where they were all already sitting. Emma was on one of the kitchen stools and Michael was on the chair across from her, smiling. She had sprayed her hair fuchsia, had big white sunglasses on her head and was wearing a leopard-print faux-fur coat over her jeans and white T-shirt. She looked Fabian up and down as he walked in.

  ‘You didn’t dress up either!’ she said. ‘You guys! Everyone is meant to wear a costume for Winter Magic, that’s the whole point!’

  He looked at her closely. If it was a Katy Perry outfit, then it was sort of weird, apart from the hair. He shrugged. ‘Sorry. I didn’t think you were into pop though?’

  Emma slammed her hand on the counter in frustration. ‘I’m not Katy Perry! I’m meant to be Kurt Cobain, obviously.’

  ‘Oh okay,’ he said, trying not to catch Tessie’s eye or he knew he would laugh.

  ‘Nirvana? You know them, right?’

  ‘Yeah, sort of.’ He turned to Michael, who was still grinning. ‘Where should I put my bike? I don’t want my parents to see it here.’

  Sam turned and grinned at him from where he leaned against Michael’s table eating a sandwich. Fabian smiled a little stiffly back. He was still embarrassed about the whole no-shirt thing.

  ‘You can put it in the shed if you like,’ said Michael, motioning to the green shed in the corner of the yard.

  Fabian wheeled the bike over the grass, hearing laughter ring out behind him.

  ‘It’s not funny!’ he heard Emma shout.

  Smiling, he pulled open the shed door. It was dark in there, and full of old furniture and gardening equipment. Lifting his bike, he squeezed himself inside, knocking over a mop as he went. There was nowhere to put his bike except for on top of an old leather sofa. Hopefully Michael wouldn’t mind. The door must have swung shut, because Fabian was suddenly plunged into darkness.

  ‘Very funny!’ he called.

  He turned clumsily, knocking something with his leg, which rattled to the floor. Maybe the wind had blown it shut. He tried to reach out, but he touched something wet and furry instead.

  It was too dark.

  Way too dark. His eyes should have adjusted by now.

  He should be able to see something, even the line of sunlight coming from under the door.

  Oh God, he realised, no one closed the door, it was happening again. He needed to get out of the shed; if the others saw him, they could help him back to the house.

  Taking a step forward, his foot banged into something hard and he fell, skidding onto the dirty concrete. He tried to take a breath, but the room felt too small. Everything was pressing in on him, he couldn’t move, couldn’t get out.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Michael’s voice.

  ‘Can you get Tessie?’

  ‘She’s in the bathroom. Why are you on the ground?’

  Michael was the last person he wanted to ask for help, but he was starting to panic. ‘I can’t see,’ he said quietly.

  Without a word, he heard Michael come towards him and two strong hands pull him to his feet.

  ‘Okay, there’re some bricks in front of you, so step over them,’ Michael said, his hand on Fabian’s shoulder, guiding him. ‘Now duck down, and three more steps and we’re out.’

  The group sat together in Michael’s kitchen. Fabian’s sight had come back about ten minutes ago, but he still felt a little fragile.

  ‘It’s getting worse,’ he said.

  ‘What will happen if we don’t figure it out from this?’ Emma whispered. ‘And it keeps happening more and more until it’s every day? Or every hour?’

  ‘I couldn’t live like that.’ Michael’s voice sounded hollow.

  None of them said anything else, they just sat there, together, until it was almost time.

  ‘We should probably get in position,’ said Tessie, looking at her watch.

  Fabian felt his stomach clench. They were really going to do this.

  CHAPTER 20

  EMMA

  Emma felt a fit of giggles coming on. They were all squished into Michael’s downstairs bathroom. Sam stood inside the shower, Fabian was sitting on the closed toilet lid and Tessie was squashed in the gap between them. Emma was sitting awkwardly on the sink and Michael was pressed up between her and the door. They looked so silly. Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, she told herself.

  They’d been sitting there for about ten minutes when Michael’s dad had come home. He’d wandered around the house for a while, but they couldn’t tell quite what he was doing. It sounded like he was moving around furnitu
re and unscrewing then re-screwing the lights. So weird. It was another fifteen minutes until the doorbell rang. Emma was already getting pins and needles in her leg.

  ‘Do you know if Bel and Lia are coming?’ she heard a voice say. She was fairly sure it was Fabian’s mum.

  ‘How would I know?’ demanded Michael’s dad.

  She looked over at the others. Fabian had his head down, listening intently, and Sam was staring at him. Looking up, she caught Tessie’s eye and gave her a half-smile. Tessie pulled a face of intense discomfort in return. Emma could feel the laughter rise up in her again; she put her arms around her chest, trying to stop it. She looked at Michael, her eyes watering and her body shaking with the suppressed laughter. He looked at her, horrified, and quickly held a hand over her mouth. The surprise of it instantly killed the giggles. His hand felt warm on her lips. She never thought she’d ever be this close to Michael; his face was only about ten centimetres from her own.

  There was a knock at the door. The squeak of the couch. Footsteps. The front door opening.

  ‘Sorry we’re late.’ That was her mum. She pulled Michael’s hand from her mouth, but didn’t let it go. The laughter had deflated inside her when she’d heard her mum’s voice. Her parents really were part of this.

  ‘That’s fine. Come in.’

  Michael must have seen the pain in her eyes because he squeezed her hand, looking intensely at her. She knew she should let go of his hand, but she was worried if she did, she might float away. None of this felt real.

  ‘So glad you came!’ said Fabian’s father. She heard the sound of fabric slipping against fabric. They must be hugging.

  ‘I miss you guys so much.’ It was Tessie’s mum.

  ‘Us too, it’s the only way though.’

  ‘I know.’

  The squeaks of the leather chairs meant that they must all be sitting now. However, no one was talking. She realised she was still holding Michael’s hand. She really should let go, but the warmth of his skin on hers felt so good.