17 – RED-HANDED

I knock on Genie Ackroyd's front door and stand back with Spock beside me. I wipe my sweating palms on my jeans and breathe through my nose to calm myself. Genie Ackroyd opens the door and rolls her eyes at the sight of me.

'What do you want?' she says. 'Come to give me another message?'

I ignore the sarcasm in her tone. 'No, I'm here to find out why the last message was wrong.'

Genie frowns at me, still sceptical, but perhaps more lenient. 'You really believe what you're saying, don't you?'

I nod. It's not easy, especially when I know she thinks I should be in a lunatic asylum. 'Most of the time,' I reply.

Genie sighs, her hostility relenting. 'Well, I suppose only half of your message was wrong,' she says.

My ears prick up and I have trouble holding back. 'What does that mean – half?'

Genie shrugs, looking almost annoyed at herself for conceding so. 'The keys and map were right where you said they were, behind the panel in the cupboard. But…' She hesitates, tutting her tongue in annoyance and rolling her eyes.

My heart thuds in my chest. At least fifty percent of the message was right. 'But?' I prompt her.

Her accusing glare is back. 'But when I went there, it obviously belonged to someone else.'

'How so? It's a birdwatching shelter.'

'It's actually more like an old Nissen hut, you know those long round buildings made out of steel they used in the wars? The first time I went the keys didn't fit and the second time I saw people there, inside and out, digging and sprucing the place up.'

'Did you speak to them? Ask them if it was theirs?'

'Of course not,' says Genie, looking disgusted at the notion. 'What was I going to say – that my mother had come back from the dead to tell me this was now my Nissen hut?'

'Well…' To me that doesn't sound like such a bad thing to say – it was true after all, in a non-zombie kind of way.

Genie looks annoyed. 'I don't have time for this. I've got a meeting with the estate agent in twenty minutes.' She moves as if to close the conversation and the door, and once again my desperation spurs me into pleading with her.

'Look, please, I must figure out why the message was wrong. Otherwise –' I'm about to mention Max, but then think twice. She already thinks I'm nuts; using Max as a reason would send her over the edge.

'You go out there then,' she says with a flick of her hand. 'You go ask if the hut is theirs. It would be a stupid question if you ask me, but you don't seem to have a problem with coming across as barking.' Genie tries to close the door.

I reach out to stop her, endangering the lives of my fingers. 'But where is it? I don't know where to find it.'

Genie gives me a sarcastic look. 'You don't know?'

'No.'

'You mean, you know where to find me, where to find the keys, where to find the map, but you don't know where the hut is?'

I shake my head. 'No. The location of the shelter or hut or whatever it is wasn't part of the message. I'm only told what I need to know.'

Genie rolls her eyes again and shakes her head. 'Hold on.'

She walks back into the house and reappears a moment later with an old torn map. 'There. There's the map. It's pointless giving you the keys since they don't work. You go knock on the door and tell them your story.'

She closes the door before I can respond. I look down at the map crumpled in my hands. Unfolding it, I see it's of rural Cambridgeshire. There is a red X in the middle of nowhere, away from any roads, slap bang in the middle of the Fens.

I fold it carefully and turn to Spock. 'You up for some rambling?'

Spock and I run for the bus and make it just in time. I get a county day-tripper ticket and climb up to the top deck and sit at the front. There's not many people up here so I let Spock sit beside me. He especially enjoys bus rides when he can look out of the window.

The bus makes slow progress out of the congested city, stopping every thirty seconds for traffic or to let on more passengers. As the concrete of the city fades to countryside and the bus speeds up I let my thoughts wander.

Might some opportunistic people have taken on Freda Ackroyd's old birdwatching shelter thinking it had been abandoned? Or – and looking at the vagueness of the map, it wouldn't be unfathomable – could Genie have gone to the wrong place?

We pass through the village of Impington, slowing as we travel along the narrow residential lanes, and I frown. I'm sure this is the place Max said he followed Jonathan to. Or was it Arrington? I see a sign for Oakington and give up. Why do so many of the villages around here sound so similar? In this desperate mindset, I can't be sure what he said.

We lurch through a couple more request stops and head out through more countryside. Oakington comes and goes. Open farmland becomes more wooded. I check Genie's map again. It isn't clear where I have to get off, but I reckon Cottenham is the closest.

I gaze out of the window, watching the sun flicker through the dense line of fir trees on the side of the road. I can't get Max off my mind. I must get him back. I must fix this mistake!

We swing around a sharp bend and the trees become sparser. Then over the treeline a water tower comes into sight.

I gasp as its identity freights trains itself to the forefront of my mind. It is identical to the one from Holly and Dylan's pictures of the cows by the canal. It has to be the same one! Without thinking twice, I slam my palm against the Stop button and the digital sign above the front window pings into life – 'Stopping'.

But it doesn't stop. We pass the water tower and I screw around in my seat to watch it disappear behind the trees. I press the button again, ping, ping, ping, but the bus carries on.

'Wait for the next stop, will ya?' someone yells from the back.

I shrink down in my seat and do as I'm told. We travel on for another couple of minutes, each second taking me further and further away from the water tower. Approaching the outskirts of Cottenham, the bus slows at long last.

I leap from my seat, Spock at my heels, and scuttle down the steep stairwell. But down the bottom, my legs nearly give way with fright as I come face to face with Jonathan also queueing to disembark.

Spock bashes into the back of my legs as I freeze. Jonathan looks equally taken aback. I hold onto the handrail like I'm hanging off a cliff. I don't know what to say to get out of this one.

Jonathan's eyes narrow. 'What a coincidence,' he says, his voice low enough for only me to hear. 'Or perhaps I don't give you enough credit. You're not following me, are you?'

I shake my head dumbly and finally manage a numb, 'No.' It's not a lie. I have no idea when Jonathan boarded the bus. Was he already aboard when I got on?

'Then where are you going?'

'Just – um –' My throat closes up and I have to swallow. 'Just to do a bit of rambling, and all that.' I gesture at Spock behind me like he'll back up my pathetic excuse.

Jonathan shows no sign of believing me. 'Aha. Well, I recommend you ramble some other place,' he says making a walking gesture with two fingers across my eyeline, then after a pause he adds, 'This area is known for its snakes in the grass.'

I nod dumbly. I don't want to be bitten by a 'snake'. At least, not in broad daylight and with my cover blown.

The bus jolts to a stop and I'm jerked forward. I fall against Jonathan and he steps away to avoid touching me. His eyes glitter with malice, and I'm sure the spikes in his hair become sharper.

'I'll just wait for the next stop,' I mumble.

'I've a better idea,' he replies. 'Why don't you and Rex here go on home where it's safe?'

The bus doors fold open and Jonathan steps off without so much as a backward glance.

Heart thundering, I turn and race up the stairs again. Spock doesn't know what the hell is happening and he barks at my desperate behaviour.

'Tell that mutt to shut up, will ya?' shouts the loud mouth from the back.

I ignore it. Keeping low in my seat, I peep over the window. Jonathan stands on the side of the road while the other three people who got off walk away. He is watching for me and waves when I appear, a sinister smile on his lips. It sends chills over my skin.

I sink back in my seat, gasping for breath. I look down at the map, crumpled in my sweating palm. My hands are shaking. I look for the red X, remember Genie's words: 'They were digging outside.'

Could this be Holly's final resting place?

Copyright © H.R. Aidan, 2016