The train ride cost me 50 pence; I got on at Harrowsgate and rode it to Malcombe Moor. The place was crawling with Bobbies and they watched me with narrowed eyes as I wandered the station. Vending machines marched against the back wall and the doors led out a series of steps to the outside and the cut off to the lane I’d seen in my dreams.
“Hey, laddie. Who are you? What are you doing loitering about?”
I didn’t answer but hurried into the woods and several of them trailed me until I found my feet on the damp path through moors and mire. Gorse bushes and hidden draws kept me from sight and none of them wanted to lose their shoes in the slop.
Drawn irresistibly to the pool I’d seen in my dream, her face kept floating just under the surface even though I knew she wasn’t there yet. I had the distinct sense she would be the next victim and I couldn’t prove it.
I retraced my steps, the coppers were gone, and the locals were standing round talking in small groups. I wandered, popping into shops, asking where the school was and if anyone knew Kitty or Caitlyn. It brought me curious and unwelcome stares, especially from the postmaster who was an older man with hard eyes and strong hands. The way he looked at me made me nervous and I left the village watching behind me all the way to the station.
My nights now were no longer spent sleeping, I rode the trains back and forth enough times that the conductors knew me. Sometimes, I got off at the place where I had seen her alive, other times I rode to the Heath hoping to spot him riding the train home.
The day I saw her, I rubbed my eyes thinking I was asleep and seeing her in my dreams. I was on the Amesbury line, heading out to the Heath, nearly the opposite direction from her murder site. I was afraid to approach her. What could I say, excuse me, I’ve seen you murdered. Don’t go home and take the shortcut? She’d think me mad and call the Bobbies on me. Instead, I pretended not to see her; followed her off the train to the village of Chelmsford where she entered a flea market the size of the village green.
Stalls were set up under trees and the open; people bustled about like shoals of fish. There were antique dealers and rubbish piled high, plants and herbalists, fortune readers and used clothes all for sale in someone’s slot. I was fascinated by the sheer volume of items for sale, there were even live animals and a childrens petting zoo.
She headed for an apothecary’s shop and because of the crowds; I was able to approach right behind her, listening to her conversation.
She came to get something to make her feel good and the way she asked made me think it was some kind of password question because the shopkeeper said he thought she was a mite young for it but she repeated the question and told him she had the blunt. I saw her hand over a ten pound note and he gave her a piece of paper twisted at both ends. She tucked it carefully inside her shirt. His eyes found me.
“You too?” he asked and I blushed, shook my head and pretended to browse the nearest row of stuff which happened to be feminine products. I was mortified, embarrassed and didn’t see her leave until the shopkeeper pushed me out.
I lost her in the crowds; roamed the market for two hours before I gave up and went back to the station. As I arrived, I realized I had no cash left, some thief had picked my pockets and robbed me of every penny I’d had. Luckily, I’d tucked my return ticket into my jean pocket and that was still there.
I crept home in defeat and sneaked in by the rooftop. Instead of going to my room, I sat on the roof with my knees tucked into my chest and watched as the stars rotated over my head.
Morning came in an agonized crawl. I entered the bedroom, mussed the bed so Suze thought I had slept, changed my clothes for ratty t-shirt with the Grateful Dead and black jeans, fresh boxers and socks. Wetting my hair with my fingers, I smoothed it out and stared at my face in the little mirror above the small porcelain sink. Dark shadows smudged my eyes making the purple dark like wine, my mouth turned down in sadness. I looked tired, hopeless. I would have scared the devil out of his skin.
“Aidan?” Suzy’s smokers rasp floated up to me. “Breakfast.”
The thought of food made me nauseous but I descended to the kitchen and picked at the eggs, biscuits until it made a homogeneous mess on the plate. Suzy sighed, took it away, and handed me a glass of milk and a white pill.
“Dr. Elverson gave me these when you can’t sleep or you feel frazzled,” she said. “Don’t take them when you’re going to classes. You’ll sleep through them.”
“I need something for when I’m awake.”
“I told him no. I don’t want you hooked on shit that makes you not care. I saw too many of my kids go that route and never get off that crap.”
“Like Schnee and Marc?”
She snorted. “They’re smart enough not to use it, just sell it to teens. You don’t need that shit.”
“No,” I admitted. “I’ve got enough problems of my own without creating more.”
“What do you think these dreams mean, Aidan? You think you’re psychic?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, Suzy. I just know I can’t sleep or eat until I find out what they mean.”
“I hope it’s soon or there’ll be nothing left to you.”
“Finals are this week,” I sighed. “I haven’t studied at all. I’m afraid I won’t pass my forms.”
She snorted again or maybe she was just trying to draw a deep breath. “You’re tops in your grade, Aidan. You’ll go on in whatever you decide.”
“I’d like to go to L.S.E.,” I said hesitantly. “Is there enough funding for that?”
“We’ll make do. If you do go on, you’ll be the first of my boys to go second form. I’m proud of you, Aidan, either way. You’ve been a joy to raise.”
Impulsively, I hugged her, throat surprisingly tight. “If I had a mum, Suzy, I’d like her to be just like you.”
“Go on, boy,” she grumbled. “You’ll be late for the coach.” I snatched up my lunch chit and ran out the door to the stairs.