‘I didn’t know that,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder.
‘And they have to empty their lungs before they go into their shell,’ he said, encouraged.
‘Interesting,’ Maggie replied, elbow-deep in suds.
Elliott frowned. He wished he could talk to someone about his nightmares. He wasn’t just a watcher. The smells, sounds, and feelings swallowed him up and followed into his days. His brow knitted as the blurry image of the bad man faded. Then poof … like blowing out a candle on a birthday cake, it was gone. But the fear had soaked deep into his bones. He winced as his fingernails dug into his palms. He reached for his toast and took a couple of bites before swallowing the dry offering. Maggie had forgotten to butter it. She was standing at the sink, staring out of the window, humming slightly off-kilter, her head tilted to one side. Something inside her had broken. Elliott gulped his tumbler of milk, and rested it back on the fold-up kitchen table. The big house he had lived in before was a fading memory now too. Everything changed after Daddy got sick.
‘I’m expecting a visitor soon,’ Maggie said, with an almost-smile as she did up the buttons of her cardigan. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
Elliott jumped off his chair and wriggled his big toe as it poked through the hole in his sock.
‘Here, put your slippers on.’ Maggie handed him a pair of Gruffalo faces which were distorted with wear. ‘It’s a police officer – just popping in for a quick chat.’
‘Should I put the good towels out?’ he said, in an effort to please her. When they had visitors, they put out the bright yellow towels – the ones without the holes.
A little bit of sadness left Maggie’s eyes. ‘Yes, good boy. They’re in the hot press.’
He turned and bounded down the hall. But with each step he took, a feeling of dread rose. His feet became heavy, as if he were wearing space boots.Thump … thump … thump,the echoes of heavy footsteps against a long wide staircase played in his mind. He wiped his damp palms against his jeans before pushing the feeling away. But the badness in his tummy wouldn’t go. He wished he could talk to his friends. Not school friends – he sat alone in the playground – but Libby and Jahmelia. When they babysat, they were always nice to him. Once, he had even tried to tell them about the nightmares, but Libby had looked at him funny and asked if he was feeling OK. Maggie had warned him about sharing secrets. She said people wouldn’t understand.
Elliott had just laid the towels on the rack in the bathroom like his mother had shown him when the doorbell rang. He stood behind her in the narrow hallway as the woman was allowed in. She was smaller and broader than Maggie, with dark wavy hair. She smiled at him as she spoke, but Elliott didn’t smile back. Just because people looked friendly, it didn’t mean they could be trusted.
His mother seemed surprised. ‘Sarah, I wasn’t expecting …’ she said, staring but smiling. ‘I mean, I didn’t know you were back at work.’
The woman was holding a small leather notebook in her hand. ‘It’s my first day back today.’
‘Good for you.’ Maggie touched the woman’s arm. ‘It’s great to see you out and about.’
Maggie switched her gaze to Elliott. ‘Elliott, do you remember Sarah? She’s an old school friend of mine.’ Elliott didn’t recall the woman before him, but gave her a smile, now she came with his mother’s approval. Mummy stopped going out after Daddy went to hospital. She didn’t have any friends around. He followed them into the sitting room, edging around the sofa as his mother took a seat.
‘I see you’re still painting then.’ Sarah pointed at the pictures on the living-room walls. Both Maggie and her sister had been artists. Elliott’s favourite picture was the one of a tortoise which hung in his room.
‘When I get time,’ Maggie replied. ‘But you’re not here to talk about that.’
Control had already called ahead to let Maggie know that enquiries were being made. ‘We’ve had reports of a prowler last night,’ Sarah said, taking the armchair. ‘Patrolling officers gave chase, and they cut through your garden as they ran away. It was most likely kids …’ She grinned at Elliott. ‘Given it was Halloween.’
‘Creepers creeping.’ Elliott’s voice seemed to surprise them, and he caught his mother’s warning glance. But the lady with the notebook didn’t seem to mind. She had curious eyes, like he was in a story she was trying to read. That’s what he did too. People, things, places – they were all part of stories. He could tell if people were happy or sad, just by looking at them. Smiles meant nothing, they were like the jumpers you wore for school. You put them on because you had to. He watched his mother’s friend intently; she seemed sad behind her smile.
The Midnight Man is coming …
The words swept over his mind, invoking a shiver. He was so tired of all the black things in his head. He watched Maggie and the lady chat and laugh as she scribbled in her notebook. ‘It’s been too long. I’ll call you soon,’ Maggie said, as she rose to leave. ‘Have a proper catch-up.’
‘I’d like that,’ Sarah replied. ‘I’m free most evenings.’ She meant it, he could tell because her eyes sparkled. She seemed happier than when she first got here. ‘How’s Lewis?’ Sarah said, glancing at a picture of him in his army uniform.
Maggie said he was doing well. Sometimes grown-ups said one thing and meant another. Elliott knew his mum didn’t want him to feel sad. Maggie glanced down at him. ‘Elliott is minding his medal until he comes home.’
Elliott smiled at his mother as she ruffled his hair. But he’d heard Maggie talking on the phone to the hospital. Daddy wasn’t getting better.
Maggie returned her attention to her friend. ‘Hang on, let me give you my new mobile number.’ Maggie walked out to the kitchen to search for a pen. Elliott had turned inwards. His chest was rising and falling with the speedy beat of his heart.The Midnight Man is coming… his lips thinned as the words threatened to spill. Insistent knocks on the door of his consciousness. He saw a flash of a bloodstained knife and took a sudden breath.
‘Everything OK?’ Sarah said, a little crease on her forehead.
The words climbed up his throat and were out before he could stop them. ‘The Midnight Man is coming,’ he blurted, feeling instant relief. ‘The angel is dead.’ Sarah stared, the colour draining from her face.
‘Wha … sorry, what did you say?’
Elliott took two steps backward. He had said too much. The woman fixed a smile as Maggie reappeared, her hand rising to adjust her fringe. Elliott scurried out of the room.
‘Elliott? Where are you off to in such a hurry?’ his mum said, as he bounded away.
