Don't Look Back Read online

  Adam cut the thought off, disgusted at himself for allowing it to enter his mind. Henry would never do something like this! He would be devastated when he found out that Jacob was dead. Jacob. The name brought a lump to Adam’s throat. He stared uncertainly at the dead bird. Was it really necessary for Henry to be told? If indeed this was Jacob, surely it was better for him not to know. There would doubtless be some tears when the robin’s absence was noticed, but that would be nothing compared to the potentially disastrous effect of knowing it had been killed.

  Adam picked up the nest and balanced it back in its crook. He reached for a spade and left the outhouse, pausing at the door to make sure Henry wasn’t nearby. He dug a hole behind the outhouse and laid the robin in it. Tears pushed up behind his eyes as his mind flashed back to watching Jacob’s coffin disappear behind the curtains at the crematorium. He quickly filled in the hole.

  He went in search of Henry and found him throwing stones into the pond. “What are you up to?” asked Adam.

  “Nothing.” There was a moody downturn to Henry’s lips.

  “Do you want to go for a walk?”

  “Not really.”

  “Come on. I’ll buy you an ice cream.”

  Henry puffed his cheeks, but followed his dad to the back gate. They turned right towards Lizard Point. Henry went in front with Adam following closely. The mellow afternoon sun warmed their faces. The coconut scent of gorse blossom perfumed the air. Crickets chirped. Gulls skimmed and dived. Cormorants spread their bat-like wings. The path wound around shoulders of grass and bracken, descending into coves where ribbons of sand glistened and little thatched cottages hid from the world. A pfft sound like pressure escaping a steam valve attracted Adam’s attention. He tapped Henry on the shoulder and pointed as the shiny black back of a killer whale emerged from the waves. Henry’s sullenness slid away and his eyes widened delightedly. They passed a lifeboat station with a limpet-speckled boat ramp. Rusty funicular tracks climbed the cliffs behind it. The landscape took on a more exposed aspect. Endless ranks of waves seemed to be trying to pound the cliffs into submission. Tanker ships lined the horizon. A lighthouse within a fortress-like compound of white walls loomed over the path.

  Henry pointed to a large black funnel flaring from a corner of the compound. “What’s that?”

  “A fog horn.”

  They came to a windswept carpark with a gift shop and a café. The shop was cluttered with lamps, lighthouses and other decorative objects carved from serpentine. Beyond the café, the path sloped steeply down to the sea, passing a few dilapidated boat sheds and ending at a small crescent of pebbly sand. Sharp rocks jutted menacingly out of the sea. And then... Then there was nothing but blue, seemingly extending into infinity.

  “This is pretty much where England ends,” said Adam.

  They watched waves being shredded by the rocks. Adam breathed in the air and held onto it for as long as possible.

  They climbed to the café and sat on a terrace overlooking the minefield of rocks. Adam watched Henry wolf down his food, marvelling at what a difference the past few days had made. Henry’s cheeks were fuller and had a healthy glow. His head was no longer hunched down as if cringing away from something. Sitting there between the blue of the sea and the gold of the sun, it was almost possible to imagine the past ten months had been nothing but a terrible nightmare.

  When they got back to the house, Ella was unpacking shopping bags in the kitchen. Henry told her about the killer whale. She smiled at his excitement, and Adam smiled because he knew Henry’s happiness would do more to put her at ease than anything he could say.

  Adam headed for the patio and kicked off his trainers. Ella poured them each a glass of wine. “You look like you enjoyed yourself too,” she said.

  He smiled. “I feel like I really connected with Henry for the first time in months.”

  Ella was silent. Glancing at her, Adam was surprised to see a cleft between her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I know it’s stupid, but I keep getting this feeling like something bad is going to happen and spoil everything.”

  The lifeless robin returned to Adam’s mind. He’d been uncertain whether to tell Ella about the grim discovery, but now he decided against it. He curled his fingers into hers, saying softly, “No it’s not stupid. Bad things happen. We know that better than anybody. But right now life is good. Let’s just enjoy this moment while it lasts.”

  “I wish I could, Adam, but my mind’s so full of things that need doing. Did you call Mr Mabyn about the book?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’d better do it.”

  Ella went back into the house. She returned after a few minutes. “Rozen had already called him,” she told Adam. “He said he’ll call round for it sometime in the next day or two. Where is it by the way?”

  “I think I left it in the kitchen.”

  “Well it’s not there now.”

  “It’ll be around here somewhere. Maybe Henry moved it.” Adam reached for Ella’s hand again. “Relax, it’ll turn up.”

  Ella sipped her wine. The cleft between her eyebrows faded away – but not entirely.

  After putting Henry to bed, Adam and Ella made love with the bedroom windows wide open and the sea murmuring accompaniment to their moans. Afterwards, Adam went to the bathroom. He remembered Rozen’s request – When you get back to the house look in all the mirrors. Look as closely as you can.

  He peered into the mirror. A face that was sliding into middle age stared back – the jawline wasn’t as defined as it had once been, the crow’s feet were more pronounced, the grey hairs more numerous. Yet it seemed to him that some of the marks of grief had been soothed away by the past few days. He moved closer so that he could see the tiny broken veins, clogged pores and other blemishes unnoticeable at a glance. He looked closer still, until everything blurred and a vague ache gathered in the centre of his forehead. It was like with his writing – sometimes the closer you got, the less you saw. He found himself picturing Rozen staring back at him from the other side of the mirror.

  Smiling at the absurd image, he made his way around the bedrooms looking in the mirrors – no apparitions or strange lights, just his own world-weary face. Ella was snoring softly by the time he got into bed. He curled up against her and swiftly followed her down into sleep.

  Chapter 18

  Day Four

  Adam awoke to the dawn chorus, his mind buzzing with ideas. Padding from the room, he headed for the study and set to work. The sun climbed over the cliffs, changing the sky from pink to blue. A movement outside the window pulled him out of his interior world. Henry was walking barefooted in his pyjamas from the direction of the outhouses. It was still early for him to be up. Adam wondered uneasily whether Henry was searching for the robin.

  He opened the window and called, “What are you up to?”

  Henry gave a little start. “Nothing.”

  “Couldn’t you sleep?”

  Henry shrugged. “I slept OK.”

  There was something evasive in his manner, but Adam thought it best not to press the matter. He didn’t want to prompt an awkward conversation about the robin’s whereabouts. “Come inside and I’ll make breakfast.”

  Adam went to the kitchen and set about firing up the Rayburn. Henry came in and sat at the table. Adam boiled them two eggs each and made toast. As they ate, Ella appeared in her dressing gown and kissed them both on the head. “It’s going to be a nice day,” she said, peering out of the window. “Shall we go to the beach?”

  “I should work,” said Adam.

  “You’ve got all the time in the world to work, Adam. This is the last weekend of the summer holidays.”

  Ella made a picnic and they packed it into the car along with towels, suntan lotion, a football and a kite. Ella had been told that the nearby beach of Poldhu Cove was worth a visit. They stopped in the pretty little village of Mullion to pick up a newspaper, a windbreak and a cheap plastic bucket and spade.
Poldhu Cove was a half-moon of golden sand strewn with grey pebbles and hemmed in by tumbledown cliffs. A path wound through grassy dunes past a beach-hut café. At the centre of the beach a shallow stream rushed down to the sea. Surfers and body boarders rode the foaming surf that dashed itself against the beach and encroaching rocks.

  Adam set up the windbreak while Ella laid out the towels and Henry made sandcastles. They sunbathed, chatted and read. Adam and Henry had a kick-about and flew the kite. After that they all raced to the sea. Ella and Henry splashed and chased each other with a look on their faces that almost made Adam believe anything was possible.

  They returned to Fenton House sandy and sunburned. After showering, they headed off in different directions – Henry to the garden, Adam to the study, Ella to the orangery. After a while, Ella poked her head around the study door. “How’s it going?”

  “Great. I’ve never written this fast before.”

  Adam gathered up the wad of paper that had accumulated on his desk. “Wow,” said Ella. “You really have been going some. Can I read it?”

  “Sure, but don’t expect too much.”

  Within seconds of Ella leaving the study, Adam was lost in his writing again. It had used to take him a while to get going after being disturbed, but now it was as easy as diving into a swimming pool. The pen flowed across the pages with little or no effort. He almost felt as if he could close his eyes and it would continue of its own accordance. A cramp in his fingers eventually forced him to take a break. He rose to make himself a cup of tea. The sound of music drew him to the sitting room. Ella was on the sofa with the manuscript.

  She cocked a curious eye at him.

  “What are you giving me that look for?” he asked. “Don’t you like it?”

  “No, it’s good. In fact, I think it’s some of your best work. It’s just so different to what you normally write.”

  “Is it?”

  “You know it is. You wrote it.”

  “Yeah but I wrote it so fast I can’t actually remember all that much about it. What’s so different?”

  Ella puffed her cheeks as if uncertain where to begin. Henry came running breathlessly into the room, his trainers squelching, his clothes sodden.

  “I thought we agreed no running in the house,” said Adam. “You’re soaked.”

  “I fell in the pond.”

  Ella’s voice rose in alarm. “That pond’s deep. You could have drowned.”

  “I can swim.”

  “Not if reeds get tangled around your ankles. I’m beginning to think we shouldn’t let you in the garden on your own.”

  Henry’s face crumpled in dismay. “You can’t do that.”

  “We can do whatever we want where your safety is concerned,” put in Adam.

  “It’s not fair!” Henry hurled the words at them, whirled around and stormed into the hallway.

  “Get back here,” Ella yelled.

  She started to rise, but Adam said, “I’ll speak to him.”

  He followed Henry upstairs. Henry was removing his shorts in his bedroom. “I’m getting changed,” he snapped. “Don’t look.”

  Adam turned away, smiling at his son’s sudden self-consciousness.

  “You can turn around now,” said Henry. He’d put on dry clothes and was smoothing down his hair in the mirror.

  A vague awareness came to Adam that something was different about the room. “We worry about you.”

  “I’m not a baby. I’m nearly twelve.”

  Adam stroked his son’s hair. “You’ll always be our baby.”

  Henry shied away from him.

  “Don’t be like that, Henry. We love you. That’s all it is.”

  “No it’s not.”

  Adam frowned at Henry’s resentful tone. Was Henry referring to his brother’s death? What else could he mean? “You’re right,” Adam said gently. “But is it any wonder we’re over-protective after everything we’ve been through?”

  “Every time I try to have fun you go mad at me.”

  “Are you still sulking about yesterday?”

  Henry’s silence was as good as a yes.

  “Why do you think we came to live here?” continued Adam. “We want you to enjoy yourself. Yesterday you broke a promise. Today I’m going to give you a second chance to prove you can keep a promise. If you promise to do as you’re told from now on, you can carry on playing outside on your own.”

  Adam waited for a response, but Henry refused to look at him. He sighed. “If you don’t want to be treated like a baby, Henry, then don’t act like one. I’ll be downstairs if you want to talk.” He turned to leave but hesitated, realising what was different – the wardrobe had been shifted away from the mirror. “Did you move the wardrobe?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t lie, Henry. You’ve been trying to get into the passageways again, haven’t you?”

  “No.”

  “And what about Heloise’s book? I suppose you didn’t move that either?”

  Henry’s face scrunched up indignantly. “I haven’t touched that stupid book.”

  Holding in his own annoyance, Adam pushed the wardrobe back in front of the mirror. “Don’t move it again. Do you hear me?”

  Henry huffed his breath, but nodded.

  Adam returned downstairs. “What did he have to say for himself?” asked Ella.

  “Not much.”

  “This behaviour isn’t like him.”

  “I think I know what’s upsetting him.” Adam told Ella about the dead robin.

  She pursed her lips sadly. “Poor little thing. Henry was probably searching for it by the pond. I’d better go talk to him.”

  “I don’t think you should. He doesn’t need to know it’s dead.”

  Ella wrinkled her face as if unsure she agreed. They sat silently drinking their wine. Adam looked at the view without seeing it. He couldn’t get Henry’s angry face out of his mind. He knew only too well that anger could be another expression of grief. It had taken him months to climb out of his own pit of self-recrimination. He didn’t want Henry to fall into that same trap.

  By the time they were all sat around the kitchen table for their evening meal, Henry seemed to have gotten over his mood. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I promise to do as I’m told.”

  Ella smiled. “We don’t want to spoil your fun, sweetheart. We only want what’s best for you.”

  “Shall we retire to the sitting room?” Adam asked, putting on a posh accent that brought a smile to Henry’s face too.

  It was a cooler evening. Adam lit the fire and they played board games on the rug as the garden fell into darkness. When Henry started yawning, Ella took him upstairs.

  Adam stretched out, sighing contentedly. Despite the run-in with Henry, it had been a good day. Ella reappeared. “What’s up?” Adam asked when he saw her frown.

  “I can’t find Henry’s stuffed bunny anywhere.”

  Adam’s stomach gave a twist. He still thought of the bunny as belonging to Jacob. As a toddler, Jacob hadn’t been able to sleep without it. Even as an eleven-year-old, he’d kept it in bed with him every night. Since Jacob’s death, Henry had grown similarly attached to it. “I’ll have a look around.”

  “There’s no need. Henry doesn’t seem bothered.”

  Adam’s eyebrows lifted. “I suppose that’s a good thing. Our little boy’s growing up.”

  He opened his arms to Ella. She snuggled in, saying a touch sadly, “Sometimes I wish I could just press pause on him.”

  “Me too. I was watching you and Henry in the sea today and I wanted to grab that moment and never let go.” Adam stretched out a hand and closed it on air. Sighing, he let his hand fall to the rug. Ella picked it up and kissed his fingers one by one.

  Chapter 19

  Adam and Ella lay talking about the day and watching the flames leap up the chimney. When the fire had burned down to embers, they went to bed. As Adam drifted off, his thoughts kept returning to the stuffed bunny. Jacob had used to chew on its fl
oppy ears. One time not long after the accident, Adam had lain with the bunny clutched to his nose and the smell had been so strong it was almost like he was holding his son. Tears threatened to find their way between his eyelids, but before they could do so the memory dissolved into sleep.

  He fell into a dream in which Henry was walking in his pyjamas on the lawn. Adam opened the window and called to him, “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing,” replied Henry.

  Couldn’t you sleep? Adam opened his mouth to ask, but something caught his attention. Henry’s fingers were dirty as if he’d been digging in dirt.

  Adam awoke with a start as if something had disturbed him. For an instant he seemed to see a shadow-wreathed figure at the end of bed. He jerked upright, his hand darting for the lamp. The light revealed an empty space. Had Henry been standing there? No. The figure had been taller than Henry.

  He stiffened at a sound – a faint creak as of footsteps on floorboards. “Ella,” he hissed.

  “What is it?” she mumbled sleepily.

  “I think I heard someone moving around.”

  Ella sat up, suddenly wide-awake. “I don’t hear anything,” she whispered.

  Adam got out of bed, cracked open the door and cocked his ear at the silence. Nothing disturbed it. He glanced towards Henry’s door. It was slightly ajar as usual.

  “Where are you going?” Ella asked as he tiptoed from the room.

  “To check on Henry.”

  Adam crept along the hallway and made out the dim shape of Henry in bed. He returned to Ella. “He’s fast asleep.”

  “So what did you hear?” she wondered worriedly.

  “I’m going to have a look downstairs.”

  Ella reached for the rotary dial phone at the bedside. “If you’re not back in five minutes, I’m calling the police.”

  Adam padded to the stairs, pausing halfway down them to listen – silence except for the beating of his own heart. The beating intensified to a pounding when he saw the orange glow bleeding from under the sitting room door. He smiled at his jumpiness. It was only the fire. He opened the door and took a shocked step backwards. It wasn’t the fire! Four candles were lit on the floor. Beside each candle stood a figure dressed all in black – two women and two men. Adam recognised three of the figures. Side on to him, with her back to the fireplace, was Faith. Facing her from a couple of metres away was the busty older woman. Faith’s lover and another man formed two more sides of a square. The bearskin rug had been rolled up and moved to one side.