The Locked Attic by B P Walter

Author:B P Walter [Walter, B P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: One More Chapter

Eighteen

Stephanie

The day of the explosion

‘It all happened at that party – the one where you picked us up. At Scotty’s house before Christmas.’

I nodded but didn’t say anything more, glad my instincts had been correct. I hadn’t been going mad. Something did happen that night.

‘It was all fine, but then some of them started doing… started doing coke. I don’t think it would have got weird, if that hadn’t happened. Well, maybe it would… I don’t know.’

I felt my heart beat hard in my chest. ‘Did Danny… Did he try the cocaine?’

I waited, desperate to know the truth and suddenly utterly terrified of it. But then Jonathan shook his head. ‘No, he wouldn’t do that. And neither did I. But I don’t think Scotty would have got so stupid if he hadn’t been on it.’

‘What did Scotty do?’ I prompted, forgetting my commitment to silence.

I saw Jonathan’s hand tremble as he raised it to wipe his face again, and as he did I realised it wasn’t just water from his hair he was brushing away. Tears were now running down his face. I thought about going over to put an arm round him, but I didn’t want to interrupt his flow, and he may have found it odd to have his mum’s friend hugging him while he sits there, naked beneath a towel and sobbing on his bed.

‘Scotty took the photos.’

A chill ran down me with these words. It was the way Jonathan said the last two words. The photos. As if they were a known quantity, already famous in their own right. Is that what all this was about? Just as I had guessed, some photos did hold the riddle to this strange mess, connecting all these dots together? The key missing piece of the puzzle? And there were just two words I needed to say now. Two words that could unlock everything I didn’t know: ‘Show me.’

I didn’t expect him to refuse, not after he’d begun his tearful story, but that’s what he did. I felt sorry for him. I didn’t want to distress him further, but when he started shaking his head and said ‘No… no, I can’t,’ I didn’t hesitate. I got up and moved towards the door, knowing what would make him do anything I asked.

‘It’s time to involve your parents.’ I said it confidently, not looking at him.

He got to the door first, his large fist on the handle, his tall, muscular frame, a fair way along the transition from boy to man, blocking my exit. If he fought me, he would win. I didn’t feel threatened physically by him, exactly, but as I met his eyes I became aware of something strange and disturbing in his face. A building mass of desperation, like an animal caught in a trap.

‘There’s no point. The whole thing’s finished. It’s not a problem anymore. I told Danny it was all over before… before he…’

He didn’t finished the sentence. He didn’t need to. Then somewhere, not far away, a sound cut through our staring contest.

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