The teacher looked at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. ‘Good Lord, they haven’t told you, have they?’ he said as he twisted the ignition key and fired up the engine.
‘Haven’t told me what?’ asked April over the roar.
Mr Sheldon paused, as if weighing something up, then when he spoke, there was a half-smile on his face. ‘That I’m an old friend of the family,’ he said.
Chapter Eighteen
Caro was waiting for April when she came out of the school gates.
‘Lizzie Welch told me Hawk was telling you off, so I thought I’d stick around.’
‘Ah,’ said April, distracted. She was still reeling from the conversation with Mr Sheldon. She had pressed him further about the ‘family friend’ comment, but he had simply said, ‘Perhaps you should ask your mother.’
‘Gabriel was waiting for a while too, looked a bit pissed off about something, but he seems that way most of the time. I didn’t like to ask if he was waiting for you, anyway.’
April nodded and they began to walk slowly up Swain’s Lane, heading towards the coffee shop on the High Street.
‘So what’s up? Did he tell you off for cutting classes? Or was it about that git Marcus? What’s going on with him anyway?’
‘Mr Sheldon gave me the impression that he had dealt with Marcus pretty harshly.’
Caro shivered. ‘Ugh, I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that - not that a bastard like Marcus doesn’t deserve all he gets.’
‘He had the cheek to say that I should have taken “my problem” to a teacher instead of “provoking” Marcus. He might as well have come out and told me I was asking for it.’
‘But that’s ridiculous!’ said Caro. ‘That just shows how out of touch teachers are. They have no idea how things work at school. God, I hate everyone in that damned place.’
‘I know what you mean,’ said April, with feeling. ‘Anyway, it wasn’t about Marcus, it was about missing lessons this morning.’ April sighed. She had been reluctant to go over the whole sorry mess of her row with her dad and its aftermath at lunch, especially when they’d had the Layla incident to discuss, but now she found she wanted to talk about it. So she told Caro about finding the job-offer letter and the vampire note and how she had confronted her dad. She even told her about the fight between them before she stormed off into the rain.
‘I was so mad,’ said April. ‘He just didn’t seem to see that there was anything wrong with bringing your family to an area you believe might be full of bloodsucking killers.’
Caro pulled a face. The vampire issue was still a sore point between them; they hadn’t discussed it since their fight after the party. April had apologised for overreacting, of course, but she had subsequently avoided talking with Caro about the supposed vampire thing, partly because so much had happened in the past few days and partly because, crazy as it was, April was embarrassed by her father’s investigation into the undead. It was one thing for a conspiracy nut like Caro to believe in monsters - she was an excitable sixteen-year-old, after all—but it was quite another thing to have your forty-something father fall for such an idea. April was used to her dad’s eccentricities, but this was quite a different story: she didn’t want to admit that, if he really did think Highgate was dangerous - and to be honest, recent events seemed to be proving him right - he was knowingly putting his family at risk for his story.
‘I can see your point,’ said Caro thoughtfully. ‘I mean, you expect your parents to make sound, rational decisions, don’t you? But then my dad spent all his life savings on one of those enormous Winnebago motorhomes last year. We can’t afford to get the boiler fixed, but he’s got a mobile chemical toilet parked outside in the street.’
April giggled despite herself.
‘The point is, adults can be idiots too,’ said Caro. ‘Your dad might well have come here to research his book, but I doubt he really thought it was dangerous. Maybe he bit off more than he could chew, no pun intended.’
‘I guess.’ April smiled. She was glad she had shared her burden with Caro; maybe she was right, maybe he had expected the vampire story to be another silly hoax like crop circles or something and then, with the murders, sensed he might be on to something big. April shook her head. It was hard to see your parents as real people; she wasn’t sure she liked the idea much.
‘Actually, that reminds me of something odd Mr Sheldon just said.’
‘Odd?’ asked Caro. ‘What did he say?’
‘He said he was a friend of the family.’
‘Ugh. That sounds more creepy than odd. I wouldn’t want Mr Sheldon babysitting me.’
‘Well, it’s even more odd because I’d never heard of or seen him before last week. I’d remember those eyes. And then when I asked him about it, he went all mysterious, like it was some big secret.’
‘You’re right, that is odd. Better ask your dad.’
April pulled a face. ‘Might not be the best time to have a cosy chat with my dad right now. I did just tell him that I hated him.’
‘Oh yes, I was forgetting.’
They walked a little further up the lane. April always made sure they stuck to the left-hand side, away from the cemetery railings, but the white gravestones still looked ominous in the failing light, poking out of the undergrowth like elbows and fingers.
‘So no texts or calls from Gabriel?’ said Caro.
April shook her head. ‘Actually, I’d forgotten all about it. I mean, you’ve got to move on, haven’t you?’
Caro looked at her with a sly smile. ‘Really?’
April tried to smile, but couldn’t. ‘All right, so I’ve only checked my phone every five minutes or so.’
The truth was, she had thought of almost nothing else. A few short hours ago, she had been so sure of Gabriel Swift and his feelings for her. He had come to her, with doughnuts, and said he wanted them to be together, however difficult it got. The way he had spoken to her - his reluctance, his awkwardness - she had believed those words were coming from his heart. It was the most romantic date of her life, not that that was saying much. He had been gallant and sexy and kind. And now, ever since Layla had stuck her claws in, it hurt even to think of him. For that one bright, shining moment Gabriel had been the best thing in the world and now … now the memory was like a blunt knife in her heart.
She took a ragged breath. ‘I just feel so stupid,’ she said. ‘I thought all that stuff with the coffee and the pebbles at the window was him being spontaneous and lovely, but the truth is he’d probably just had a fight with Layla or something and was looking for a back-up. I guess that’s all the stuff he couldn’t explain - why he said it would be difficult.’
‘Hey, don’t beat yourself up, honey,’ said Caro, rubbing her arm reassuringly. ‘You can’t help it if he’s a two-timing rat, can you? It was pretty romantic. I’d have been swept off my feet too and you know how cynical I am.’
April shook her head. ‘Anyway, the reality is I’m not going to hear from him if he’s with Layla, am I? Unless she suddenly decides to become a nun.’
‘Not likely,’ said Caro.
‘And even then, do I really want to be second best?’
Caro smirked. ‘He is pretty fit.’
April managed a wan smile. ‘Maybe I’d consider it. We’ll have to see.’
They were passing the main gates to the cemetery now and April couldn’t help peering in, half-expecting to see some weird apparition with dark eyes lurking in the shadows or beckoning her in with a bony finger.
‘You okay?’ asked Caro.
‘Yeah, it’s just that … no, I’m not. I know it sounds silly, but after that evening with the fox, and then Isabelle’s murder, I don’t like walking past it.’
‘Don’t be daft, of course it’s not silly. Something like that would shake anyone up.’ She grabbed April’s hand and ran across the road and into the park, pulling April along behind her.
‘What are you doing?’ April laughed as she was virtuall
y dragged up the hill towards the pond.
‘I’m saving you!’ shouted Caro. ‘Now come on, we have to get to Americano before they run out of that squirty cream.’
They ran through the park, cackling with laughter, past the aviary and the tennis courts before dashing out onto the High Street, completely breathless.
‘Stop! Stop! You’ll kill me!’ shouted April, bending over with her hands on her knees, panting. Caro trotted back to her and hooked her arm through April’s.
‘Lightweight.’ She grinned. ‘You’ll never make the Ravenwood track team.’
‘Does Ravenwood even have a track team?’
‘No, I don’t think it does.’ Caro laughed as they headed up the hill, peering into the shops and catching their breath.
As they came to the zebra crossing between the High Street and Bisham Gardens, they heard the unmistakable sound of a police car racing up the hill. They turned to watch as it tore past, its whirling blue light bouncing off the shop windows. Hard on its heels came an ambulance, then another police car. The heavy evening traffic had to swerve and even mount the kerb to clear a way for them and April covered her ears as they shot past, sirens blaring.
‘Blimey!’ Caro shouted over the noise. ‘They’re in a hurry.’
But the sound of the sirens didn’t diminish. Even though the cars were out of sight, the clamour continued.
‘Hey - whatever it is, it’s close. Let’s go and see what’s happened!’ said Caro, pulling at April’s elbow.
‘No, Caro, people are probably hurt and they don’t need spectators,’ said April, hanging back.
‘Oh come on!’ shouted Caro over the sirens. ‘How often do you get to see a real emergency? Just for a minute? Come on!’
Caro sped off across the road and April followed reluctantly behind her. She caught up with Caro as she was turning into South Grove and cutting across towards the square.
‘Wow, it’s right on your doorstep,’ said Caro excitedly, running on.
Yeah, like that’s a good thing, thought April, like I need any more drama in my life. She dodged around a white van, which swerved and the driver honked his horn angrily.
‘Sorry!’ she said, sprinting over the road. When she got to the other side, it was as if the whole of Pond Square had been lit up for Christmas, with red and blue lights spinning off the buildings and trees. The emergency vehicles were parked higgledy-piggledy in the road and there were people running back and forth between them, shouting above the noise. It was only then that she noticed Caro had stopped and turned back towards her. Her friend’s face looked pale and serious in the weird pulsing light. April instantly sensed that something was wrong, pushing past her friend when Caro tried to grab her.
‘April, stop …’ she said, worry in her voice. ‘I think it’s your house.’
‘What? No, it can’t be,’ said April, smiling uncertainly, her feet already moving across the square. But between the cars she could see that the yellow front door was open. ‘Oh God,’ she breathed, wrenching herself out of Caro’s grip.
‘April!’ her friend shouted desperately. ‘Wait …’
But April wasn’t stopping for anyone. Traffic forgotten, she dropped her bag and ran as fast as her legs would go, crossing the distance in seconds. A uniformed policeman saw her approach and tried to block her, but April was moving too fast. She barged him out of the way and shot through the front door, almost tumbling over a man in a bright green jacket crouching in the doorway to her dad’s study. She went down on one knee, pain shooting up her thigh.
‘What’s going on? What are you doing?’ she rasped, the words coming out in a harsh whisper. The corridor seemed to tilt to one side as her wide-open eyes tried to take in the scene. To her right, she saw the living room; it looked as if a bomb had exploded inside. Papers and books were strewn across the floor, even the shelves and pictures had been smashed. The hallway table was lying at an angle across the corridor with the phone next to it, the handset looking as if it had been used by someone with ink on their fingers. I bet I’ll get the blame for that, she thought randomly, her mind scrabbling to get a grip and knowing, deep inside, that it wasn’t ink. Slowly, with a detached fascination, she let her eyes follow the dark smears across the floor and up the wall. There was a wide daub - a handprint, her mind corrected - on the doorframe, tailing off into a long smear, as if someone - your dad, your dad - had reached out for support and then slid to the floor.
‘NOOOO!’ she screamed, and everything flashed back into full speed. Caro and the policeman were grabbing her, trying to pull her back as she pushed past the paramedic hunched over the thing on the floor.
It wasn’t a thing. It was her father - her father. He was lying on his back, half-in, half-out of the study, staring up at the ceiling, a black pool spreading around his shoulders. The paramedic was working on a deep wet wound in his neck. It looked as if his neck had been torn open.
‘No, no, no, Dad, no,’ she whispered as she fell to her knees, trying to hold him, clutching his wet hand. It’s blood, she thought in her vague, detached way, I’m covered in my father’s blood. His eyelids fluttered and a horrible rasp came from his throat. He’s alive! He’s alive! thought April, looking up at the paramedics desperately, but they were oblivious to her, their concentration fixed on the job in front of them. The hands behind her were still trying to pull her back, but again she shook them off.
‘Honey …’ gasped her father, squeezing her hand, his head turning, a slight smile on his lips. ‘Don’t…’ He coughed with an ugly rattle and bright red bubbles appeared on his lips. ‘Don’t …worry.’
The paramedic pushed April aside and shone a light into her father’s eyes. ‘Can you hear me?’ He touched William’s face. ‘Come on, mate, stay with us.’
April’s father gave the slightest of nods and the man went back to work, pressing a dressing to his throat which immediately became dark with blood.
‘April,’ whispered her father, his voice a barely audible croak, his gurgling breath getting weaker. ‘April … you need to know. Your mum …’
Suddenly his body tensed and he moaned in pain.
‘Dad, no,’ sobbed April. ‘Please, don’t talk …’
He smiled with red lips and gave her hand another squeeze. ‘I love you, April. I’ll always be here for you.’
‘I love you too, Daddy, don’t leave me, please!’
She looked up just in time to catch a glance exchanged between the medic and the policeman: a slight shake of the head.
‘No, no, no!’ she screamed as the policeman got a hold of her and yanked her backwards.
‘Let them do their job, love,’ he said in her ear; urgent, but not unkind. ‘Let them help him.’
‘No, no, I can’t leave him,’ she cried, fighting the policeman, her arms reaching out for her dad as she was pulled away, screaming for him, hands clawing against the doorframe, her own red fingerprints mixing with her father’s, her tears falling uselessly on the steps.
She knew he was dead when they brought her the blanket. A female police officer draped it around her shoulders as she sat on a bench in the square, Caro close beside, holding her tight. She could see the open doorway, she could see the paramedics wheeling the stretcher up the steps. They were doing all the right things, going through the correct procedure, but there was no urgency to their movements. There was no rush to get her dad into the ambulance and down the hill to the hospital. And she could feel it deep inside her, though she didn’t know how or why - she could feel that he had gone.
‘Your mum is on the way,’ said the policewoman softly. ‘She’ll be here soon.’
April stared straight ahead, her face expressionless.
Caro looked up at the woman and nodded. ‘Thanks,’ she said.
The police had taped off the whole square, but the curious rubberneckers seemed to be keeping a respectful distance anyway. Perhaps they sensed that something terrible had happened. The ambulance slowly rolled out of the square and Apr
il followed behind in a police car. She sat in silence, Caro on one side, the policewoman the other. She supposed it should feel weird or tragic or surreal, but she couldn’t conjure up any of those feelings. She was numb and empty, as if she was one step away from the world, could see it but not touch it.
‘Why would someone do that?’ asked April, as much to herself as to the policewoman.
‘There are some pretty nasty people out there, love,’ said the officer, ‘but you can be sure we’ll do everything we can to catch him.’
April wanted to say something, to tell her to get out there and find the killer straight away, but she couldn’t seem to open her mouth, it was as if she was encased in ice. Then they were standing at the hospital entrance, blinking in the harsh fluorescent light, watching as the paramedics wheeled the stretcher quickly away down a corridor, getting smaller and smaller, until it bumped through some double doors and disappeared.