Page 32

32

PSYCHO

My dad’s old Cadillac.

My dad’s. My dad. That’s why—

That’s why he did all this.

Because when Jack saw the photo that day after the beach, it was the car he recognised. And he knew. He knew exactly who my dad was.

Murderer . Jack was going to call my dad a murderer. Jack must have confronted him when they met. And then my dad silenced him. Both of us.

The gaps in my brain keep filling like someone is pouring hot tar into them, sealing them together.

The night it happened – all those years ago – it was when Dad got in drunk. I heard him and Mum fighting in the kitchen, talking all night, Lucas joining them. Crying. In the morning they looked grey . They were making a plan. A plan to cover for Dad. The Cadillac was in the garage from then on. They got rid of my bike.

They were all in on it. They knew. Mum and Lucas too. They protected each other. To save Dad.

The whole time, I was upstairs, painting. While Jack and Rose were lying in the road. And she was dying.

If you ’ re powerful enough, the truth can be whatever you want it to be . We make the truth .

And he’s coming. Soon.

He’ll be tracking the transactions and he’ll know exactly where to find us.

I push through the crowds of people emerging from the vaults. ‘ Jack! ’

I trip and stumble into someone. ‘Watch it!’

Move, move . ‘Jack!’

I see him through the flashing lights, sitting on the floor outside BUCKET, his head in his hands.

He looks up at me. Hurt. Terrified. Angry.

Everything, all at once.

‘What did he do?’ he says. ‘ What did your dad do? ’ But I can tell from his voice, filled with trepidation and a weary unease, that he knows. I crouch in front of him and put my hand on his arm as people swarm around us. His eyes are red. I see panic. Raw panic. And hatred. ‘Eli?’

‘He…’ I can’t say it. ‘Did Melinda tell you how your sister died?’

‘Why, Eli?’

‘Just… Please.’

‘She told me Rose drowned in the sea.’ They’re all sick – completely sick. ‘She said I blocked it out because of how painful it was…’

‘She’s lying, Jack,’ I say. I feel ill. But he needs to know. ‘There was an extra day my parents had removed from your memory. It was the day Rose died.’ He stares at me in disbelief. ‘And now it’s here.’ I point to the door across the room. The single word, ‘Rose’. Oh, God .

I recount what I saw as clearly as I can.

When I finish, he wipes his nose on the back of his hand, his make-up smearing over it. He then looks up at me, eyes blazing. ‘I need to see for myself,’ he says.

‘No, Jack. That’s not a good idea—’

‘ It ’ s mine, Eli! ’ he suddenly shouts. ‘They fucking stole it from me! And now it’s here for everyone else to see – everyone else to watch and enjoy . It’s my memory. It’s my pain – not theirs!’

As I watch him sob, I know.

This is so fucked. This is so, so fucked up. This place. It needs to stop.

I turn my head back to the crowd. And then I see her. Nisha. Serving drinks at the bar.

‘Wait here,’ I say to Jack. ‘Just … give me a minute. OK?’

He doesn’t answer. Just sits, huddled against the wall, clutching the pendant round his neck.

I stand and stride into the crowd, through the dancing bodies, giddy with adrenaline, until I’m at the bar. I push myself up to the counter right in front of her.

‘Oi, queue-jumper!’ Someone grabs my arm, but I tug it out of their grip.

She’s writing something on a receipt. ‘Violet!’ I shout over the beat. ‘ Violet! ’

She looks up. ‘Hi, what can I get for you?’

I lean towards her. ‘We’ve seen it, Nisha! We saw what happened.’

She pulls back, pen in hand, frowning. ‘Sorry. What did you say?’

‘It was my dad. My dad killed Jack’s sister. I need your help. They’ll be coming any minute now.’

She stares at me. Blank. Completely blank. ‘Wait…’ she says. ‘How do you know my name?’

‘Nisha, it’s me !’ It must be the outfit. ‘It’s Eli!’

She tilts her head. ‘Eli?’

‘It’s me, Nisha!’

I pull my sleeve back, revealing the bird tattoo.

She looks at it, confused. ‘Sorry… Do I know you?’

Oh my God. Oh my God . No.

‘Nisha, what did they do—’

Suddenly, I hear shouting behind me. I turn to see two bouncers pushing their way through the crowd, pointing at me. ‘Hey, you!’

Nisha looks on blankly as I’m dragged away from her. ‘What have you done to her!’ I scream at the bouncers on either side of me, but they keep pulling me backwards.

The surprised faces of onlookers flash by as I’m pulled through the crowd – he ’ s gone wonky, fucking mad - head . I try to squirm free, but I can’t.

‘No! Don’t take me outside! Someone stop them! It’s a lie—’

Then the recorded voice speaks again – welcome to your worst nightmare – and I’m hauled towards one of the vaults.

Above it the word:

PSYCHO

They swing open the door and throw me inside.

I hit the concrete floor, hard. When I look up, I see there are no goggles. No headset.

Just two chairs, facing each other.

In one of them is Jack. His hands tied behind his back, legs bound at the ankle.

‘Hello,’ a voice says. ‘Please take a seat, Elias. I think you have something that belongs to me.’

Casimir steps out of the shadows and in his hand he’s holding a knife.