32
Maggie was humming the theme tune toCoronation Streettoday. Elliott’s grip on her hand tightened. Hospitals made his skin itch. In his other hand was the card he made for Libby. He’d glued pasta and pink glitter around the ‘Get Well Soon’ he’d drawn in yellow pen. But the deeper they got into hospital, the worse he felt. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of cleaning fluid, staring straight ahead. He didn’t know what to say to Libby because he hadn’t spoken up. Now he felt like that time he ate mud in the playground and found something wriggling in the back of his mouth. He smacked his mouth at the memory of the dare. His teacher said that if you saw something bad or scary you should always speak up. But Maggie said that sometimes keeping secrets was a good thing.
This morning, Maggie told him about Libby and he was so happy she was OK that he’d cried. Last night, he’d sensed her lost in darkness so thick that he could barely make her out. Until his mother spoke to him, he couldn’t put his worries into words. Now, he understood. Libby was hidden in a place with no windows or doors. The feeling of insects on his skin … a bad smell. She was trapped in the walls. Not like Angelica though, she was in theotherplace. The Midnight Game was still being played and it would not stop until it was done. How could Libby have been so silly? Even Elliott knew that you shouldn’t play dangerous games.
‘Are you OK, sweetie?’ Maggie looked at him with the same scared face that all the mummies and daddies in Slayton were wearing now. Most kids were on curfew. The Scouts and Brownies were cancelled, and every pole was decorated with a yellow ribbon. People peeked through their blinds, and whispered in corners. The killer was one of them. Elliott couldn’t explain this aloud because he could barely understand it himself. He nodded in response to his mummy’s question. It was an automatic thing now.
Maggie said that Libby was barely speaking, and that they had to do what they could to help. They had some magazines from a bargain shop near home which Elliott had helped to choose, and grapes. Elliott stood next to Maggie at the elevator, silently watching. It was not good to get in the way of the game. The Midnight Man saw everything. Elliott listened as a trolley rattled past. Heard the squeak of rubber shoes against tiled floors. He had a sudden thought and tugged on his mother’s hand.
‘Can we go and see Daddy?’
‘Daddy’s in Benrith hospital, sweetheart.’ Maggie smoothed over his hair. ‘He’s not up to visitors yet.’ Elliott sighed. The last time he saw his daddy, he looked like something from the robot programmes on TV, with tubes coming out of him that came from machines with blinking lights, and bandages on his face. But that had been so long ago, when Elliott was six years old. He was seven now, almost grown up.
His mother bent down to his level. ‘As soon as he’s well enough, I promise I’ll take you to see him. But today we need to think about Libby. She’s had a horrible time and she needs some cheering up. Do you think we can do that?’
Elliott nodded, putting on his special smile. As the lift doors opened, he spied Sarah waiting in the corridor, chewing on her thumbnail. The sad cloud that followed her was back today, but she still looked brave. If Sarah was at his school she would climb right to the top of the bars without even looking down, he could tell.
‘Hello, Elliott,’ she said brightly. ‘I think you’re growing taller every day.’ Elliott responded with a shrug. His jeans had inched up near his ankles, and his toes were squished in his shoes, but he hadn’t said anything because his mummy would have to work even harder to buy him new things. He liked it better when she was at home.
‘Thanks for bringing Elliott,’ Sarah said to Maggie, as the three of them approached Libby’s room. ‘It’s important that we let Libby lead the way. If she tells us to go, we go. Whatever she wants. She’s in control.’
Maggie agreed and turned to Elliott. ‘She’s not long out of surgery,’ she added. ‘She’s probably sore, so best not to jump onto the bed.’ Elliott nodded. He wasn’t in a jumping around kind of mood anyway.
Libby’s room was small but bright, with flowers in glasses adding splashes of yellow and green like in Maggie’s paintings at home. Libby had her own room. She didn’t share with anyone else. There was a bandage on the back of her head, and another on her side where the chunk of wood had jabbed her skin. Elliott had felt that. Blackhall Manor didn’t like letting people go.
Libby was awake, staring at the ceiling. She pulled the blankets up to her chest as Maggie walked in ahead of them. ‘It’s OK, sweetheart,’ Maggie said, softly. ‘Elliott’s here to visit. Is it OK if he comes in?’ Libby smiled as she caught sight of him trailing in. Slowly, she held out her hand. Without hesitation, Elliott joined her, taking her hand in his own. A gentle stillness passed between them. ‘And this is Sarah,’ Maggie said, pulling over a chair. ‘She’s my friend. We went to school together.’
‘She’s my friend too,’ Elliott said, looking at Libby in earnest as he sat in the chair next to her bed. Her eyes looked empty, but her shoulders dropped half an inch.
‘Is it OK if she joins us?’ Maggie continued, placing the grapes and magazines on the table over her bed. Libby responded with a nod. Elliott felt swallowed up by her sadness. Something inside Libby was broken. But she had been able to get away. She had beaten the Midnight Man, and Elliott knew that would make him cross.
Her hands in her trouser pockets, Sarah joined Elliott’s side. ‘I used to live in Blackhall Manor,’ she said. ‘And now I work for the police. The thing is …’ She took a deep breath. ‘The man who took you. He’s not going to stop.’ She rocked slightly on the balls of her feet. ‘I know you’re tired, and probably very scared, but I need you to tell me everything you know. Anything at all. There isn’t a lot of time …’
Libby’s eyes were already swimming with tears. ‘I don’t know who it was,’ she said. ‘I already told the police … I only saw his reflection in my window before he pulled the hood over my head. He was strong … dressed in black.’ A sob hitched in her throat. ‘I banged my head when he put me into the boot, and then I woke up inside the walls.’
‘That’s OK, sweetie, I don’t want to upset you.’ Silence fell as Maggie passed Libby some tissues. ‘Do you want us to go?’ Sarah eventually asked, and Libby responded with a small nod. As Elliott went to leave, Libby’s grip on his hand tightened.
‘I’ll be right outside,’ Sarah said, following Maggie out. ‘Get better soon, Libby. You’re safe here.’
Libby turned to Elliott as soon as the door clicked shut. ‘Don’t go near Blackhall Manor. Promise me.’
‘I won’t,’ Elliott replied. After a beat he remembered something. ‘Did you know that tortoises like being scratched? They can feel it when you touch their shell.’
‘That’s lovely.’ Libby gave him a teary smile. ‘I hope your mum lets you get one someday. You’d be the best tortoise owner in the world.’
Elliott hoped so too. But Maggie said tortoises lived too long. They sat in a happy silence until Libby began to doze.
‘If you tell, you’ll go to hell.’ Libby was talking in her sleep, her eyes closed.
Elliott’s chest tightened. He had heard those words in his dreams. They were the words of the Midnight Man. He sat quietly at Libby’s bedside, trying to be brave. The image of a hooded figure rose in his mind. It was as if he was feeding off Libby’s connection with the Midnight Man. His pulse quickened as the image sharpened.Two faces,he thought, hugging himself in the chair.The Midnight Man has two faces.One good, one bad.
33
‘Poor taste, isn’t it?’ Maggie pointed to her newspaper. ‘Taking a photo of the funeral.’
Sarah squinted at the black and white image. She had been looking over Maggie’s shoulder at the crossword competition, not the story next to it. Anything to kill the time as they sat, waiting for Elliott to emerge from Libby’s room.
‘Is that Angelica’s funeral?’ she said, taking in the image of a family standing at a graveside, hands clasped, heads bowed. She may not like Simon Irving, but even he deserved time to mourn.
