A Dark Secret. Casey Watson

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СКАЧАТЬ to pop up Sam’s suitcase and say goodbye, she left us, promising to let us know as and when she found out any more – though that would obviously be unlikely to happen before Monday morning. In the meantime, it was really just a case of watch and wait. Though in the shorter term, just a case of settling him in and putting him to bed, which, surprisingly, proved as simple a task as it sounded. It had been gone seven when they’d arrived, Sam had already eaten, and after the best part of an hour playing on the PlayStation with Tyler, it seemed that he didn’t even need telling it was bedtime.

      ‘Am I allowed to go to bed yet?’ he asked when I checked on them.

      ‘Yes, of course, love,’ I told him. ‘Shall I help you with your things?’

‘I’m okay,’ he said, getting to his feet, as Tyler paused the game. ‘I’m nine now,’ he added. ‘I can do stuff for myself.’

      There was no side to him. No attitude. And he didn’t seem to mind me watching as he trotted this room, unzipped his case and started rootling round for pyjamas. (That he’d have everything he needed wasn’t going to be an issue, as I knew Kelly would have diligently packed everything she’d thought he might.)

      ‘How about a glass of water?’ I suggested, once he’d finally found them.

      ‘I’m okay,’ he said, briefly meeting my gaze. ‘Night, night.’

      My cue to go, then. So I did – only pointing out the bathroom, so he could clean his teeth. Which he did, albeit that I suspected this was a pretty recent ritual. I knew because I lingered with Tyler for a bit – duty done, he was getting ready to go out now – and heard Sam pad across to the bathroom minutes later. ‘Seriously?’ Tyler whispered to me. ‘Feral? If he’s supposed to be feral, what does that make the eleven-year-old me?’

      ‘Or the sixteen-year-old you, come to that,’ I shot back at him.

But he was right. Could this be the same boy? Because when I peeked in on him later, just before heading to bed myself, he was sleeping, and looked the absolute picture of innocence. I wondered, as I pulled the door to, when this other child might show his face, the one that everyone was afraid of, with the devilish nature, the spiteful attitude, the belief that he was canine. Was that child really somewhere within Sam’s cute, sweet, exterior?

      But I’d been doing the job long enough to know appearances could be deceptive. That the answer was almost certainly ‘yes’. And that, despite my observations, that child would probably show up soon enough. As sure as night followed day.

      I switched off the landing light, and tiptoed across to my own bedroom. Fingers crossed not quite as soon as that, though.

Chapter 3

      There is a place between sleep and waking which, if you linger there long enough, makes you forget where you are, where you’ve been and how you got there – which is why, for a few moments the next morning, I was knocked completely off guard by the strange sounds assaulting my ears.

      Mike, too, it seemed. ‘What the hell is that?’ he spluttered, as he twisted around to check the time. ‘God, it’s not even bloody six o’clock!’

      It was an animal sound, so my subconscious automatically supplied the details. ‘Not those cats from next door, again,’ I mumbled blearily. ‘Honestly! You’d think she’d let them in in this weather.’

      The noise continued, and, as it did so, I finally woke up properly, and realised that it was actually coming from inside our house. Which was when it hit me. Of course. We had a new child in. D’oh!

Comprehension having dawned, I sat up and shook Mike’s shoulder. ‘Listen!’ I said (as if he had a choice). ‘I think it’s Sam.’

      Mike groaned, threw back the duvet and swung his legs out of bed. ‘I think you’re right, love. God, he’s howling, isn’t he? Just like they said. Better go and check on him.’

      Gathering such senses as I could – early mornings, particularly in winter, were more Mike’s domain than mine – I got up too, grabbed my dressing gown and pulled back the curtains. It was still fully dark. Just the street lamps were burning, illuminating the silvery sheen the frost had painted on the path. Which made the mournful sound coming from across the landing even more so. And very eerie. Like a werewolf in a movie.

      Mike was already coming back in again as I was coming out. ‘Very weird,’ he said. ‘It’s almost like he’s in some sort of trance. He’s just lying there in his bed. Not moving or anything – just eyes shut and howling. No response when I spoke to him. Come on,’ he beckoned. ‘Come and look.’

      I followed Mike into Sam’s room, which was lit only by a night light, and where Sam, as Mike had said, was perfectly still in his bed. And I shuddered – were it not for the racket he was making, it was almost as if he was laid out at an undertaker’s, before a funeral, his hair spread across the pillow and his hands clasped on his chest.

      ‘Sam, love?’ I whispered. ‘It’s Casey. You okay, sweetie?’ Nothing. It was as if he didn’t even realise we were there.

I touched his hand, and felt the heat of his soft, living skin. ‘Sam, love?’ But again, there was no response – just the merest hint of movement beneath his eyelids. But he didn’t seemed at all agitated, and to intrude might distress him. Better, at least for now, to leave him to it, I decided.

      I gently tugged on Mike’s forearm and we shuffled back outside again. ‘Let’s leave him be for a bit,’ I suggested. ‘I think he’s self-soothing. Probably his way of coping with waking up in yet another strange house.’

      ‘What an odd way to go about it. Still, you’re probably right. Let sleeping dogs lie, eh?’ He mouthed ‘boom-boom’ in the half-light. ‘Sorry. Couldn’t help it. Anyway, I’d better go and shower. You okay to make the coffee? I need to get a shift on. We’ve a big delivery due in at seven.’

      These days, Mike pretty much ran the warehouse where he worked, which meant long hours, sometimes even on a Sunday, like today, and greater responsibility. And with senior management having always been so understanding about our fostering – not least because it sometimes meant him taking time off at short notice – he took those responsibilities very seriously. It was a point of principle that he was never, ever late.

      So I rattled down the stairs, got the coffee on and generally gathered myself together, all the while listening to an almost unbroken soundtrack of those unmistakeable rising and falling ‘ah-oooo, ah-ooooooo’ sounds.

Though not particularly loud or urgent, it was a sound that went through you, but, at the same time, if it soothed him, then I was loath to intervene. After all, I reasoned, it would defeat the whole purpose if he wasn’t allowed to do what made him feel better. Even so, I gave myself a mental time limit. Once Mike had gone to work, I would go up again and see if I could rouse him.

      Mike having left to do just that, I was just about to head up and do so when a very confused-looking Tyler appeared in the kitchen.

      ‘What’s going on up there?’ he asked, sleepily rubbing his eyes. ‘Have you been in and seen him? What on earth is he doing?’

      ‘Howling, love,’ I said as I finished off my coffee (and reflected that ‘howling, love’ was such an unlikely thing to find yourself saying if you weren’t in a horror film). ‘Apparently, СКАЧАТЬ