Silent Playgrounds. Danuta Reah
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Q. But, you haven’t told me. Where do you go in the evenings? You know, going out, seeing your friends, things like that.
A. Simon’s got somewhere.
Q. Simon? Is that your brother?
A. Er … not … I can’t … (Pause 5 seconds.)
Q. In the evenings, Ashley. You said that Simon’s got somewhere. Is that where you go?
A. Yes.
Q. Where is it?
A. It’s … I can’t … em … It’s … you go down by the garage, where Lee’s name is.
Q. Lee? Do you see Lee in the evenings?
A. Not … It’s so and … em … they said it was all going to be different. I don’t know, I didn’t know …
Q. What? I’m sorry, Ashley, I don’t follow you.
A. Doesn’t matter.
The tape ran on. Her mind, in the way that it did when she was tired, drifted away from her. She was in the office at the Alpha Project, talking to Richard Kean, the Alpha psychologist. He’d made the rules clear. ‘You can’t have access to the confidential records,’ he’d said. ‘And that includes their police records, I’m afraid. Not at this stage. They all have the kinds of profile you were looking for: persistent, destructive criminal behaviour.’ She’d nodded in agreement. She wasn’t about to argue after the weeks of careful negotiation it had taken her to get through the door of the centre. She’d … The machine clicked, and she realized that the tape had run on to its end. Maybe she ought to go to bed. She wasn’t concentrating. She pressed the REWIND button and watched as the numbers on the counter reversed themselves. Then she pressed PLAY.
Q. Tell me about your family, Ashley.
A. Er … It’s not …
Q. Sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not.
A. Yes.
Q. You want to tell me?
A. Brothers and sisters?
Q. If …
A. (Laughs.) Brothers and sisters.
Q. Sorry, Ashley, I don’t understand.
A. Er … So … em … loose …
Q. What?
A. Simon.
Q. Simon is your brother?
A. Yes.
She’d asked Richard about that, after she’d taped Ashley. ‘Ashley says he has a brother. I’d got the impression he was an only child.’
Richard had pulled at his lip, thinking. ‘Well, if he’s been talking to you … It isn’t confidential as such. Ashley’s background is very disrupted. He has a brother who went into care years ago. He was autistic; the family couldn’t cope. Then when they found out Ashley had problems, that was when he went into care as well.’ He was more forthcoming these days, more inclined to treat her like another professional. ‘That’s the root of Ashley’s problem, I think. No one wanted him. He’s never had anyone who really cared about him. That’s hard to cope with.’
The tape ran on. Never had anyone who loved him. Suzanne had loved Adam, but that hadn’t been enough. Her mind was too tired to resist the images. The wet stone had sprouted weeds and ferns, a lush growth that flourished away from the light. The stones were green with lichen. Far down, the water was racing, smooth and strong. Someone was looking up at her from under the water, but she couldn’t make out the features, the current was too fast. Then it cleared, and the eyes opened and looked at her with fear and panic and pleading. Adam’s face, looking up at her from under the water.
Lucy lay in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin. It was late. She was tired, but she didn’t want to go to sleep. Not yet. She’d been to a place with her mum, and talked about the park to Alicia. Alicia said she was a policeman, but she wasn’t a proper one, in a uniform, with a hat. There were voices downstairs – Mum and Dad talking. Her daddy had come all the way from London on his motor bike. She heard Daddy’s voice getting louder. He was cross with Mum.
She turned over in bed. She hadn’t told. She’d kept the secret, but she didn’t know what to do now. She wished Sophie was there. Sophie would know. She turned over again. Her bed wouldn’t get comfortable. She looked at the window. It was dark outside. She couldn’t see it because the curtains were drawn, but she knew the dark was there. It was OK, though. Tamby would be watching. Chasing… Sophie would say, monsters… But Tamby would watch. All safe, she told him in her head.
She heard Daddy’s voice: ‘For fuck’s sake, Jane, what did she say?’ and then his voice got quieter. She knew what they were talking about. They thought she didn’t know, but she did. They were talking about Emma. The monsters had got Emma, Lucy knew that. Emma was the grown-up and Lucy was the little girl, but Lucy knew about monsters. She’d tried to tell Emma, but Emma wouldn’t listen. Emma thought it was safe to play with the monsters, but Lucy knew. You play with the monsters one, two, three times, and they get you. Lucy sighed. She had tried to look out for Emma, she really had.
Daddy’s voice, loud again. ‘I want to know what she said!’
She looked at the curtain. It was moving, just a bit, just the way it did when it was draughty. It’s just the draught, Mum said. Lucy didn’t know where to watch, and the dark made it harder. It was like that game they played in the yard at school, Grandmother’s Footsteps. You turned your back and they all came for you, moving so quietly you couldn’t hear them. You turned really quickly, but they were still as anything. You never saw them move, but each time you turned, they were in a different place, nearer and nearer. But they couldn’t move as long as you were looking at them.
She was only six, but she knew about the monsters.
When Suzanne finally fell asleep, she dreamt. It was the familiar dream, the one she had thought she was free of, of Adam, calling to her: Look at me, Suzanne! Listen to me, Suzanne! And her father: I hold you responsible for this, Suzanne! She pulled herself out of sleep in panic, gasping, disorientated. She sat up, trying to see the clock face. The sky outside was beginning to lighten. It was nearly five. Her nightdress felt damp, and her legs were tangled up in the sheets. Adam’s face stayed with her, bringing the familiar cold lump in her stomach. She pushed the image away. Over. Gone.
The relief she’d felt faded as the events of the evening before came back into her head. She tried to shut the memory of Emma firmly out of her mind, but she couldn’t stop herself