Dead Man's Grip

85

The air-conditioning was too cold and too loud, but nothing Carly did to the controls in her hotel bedroom seemed to make any difference. She couldn’t find any extra bedding either, so had ended up almost fully clothed, under the sheets, tossing and turning, a tsunami of dark thoughts crashing through her mind.

Shortly after 6 a.m. and wide awake, she slipped out of bed, walked across to the window and opened the blinds. Light flooded in from a cloudless dark blue sky. She watched a jet plane climb into it, then dropped her gaze on to a sprawling mess of industrial buildings and a busy road, thirty floors below.

Her head was pounding. She felt queasy and very afraid. God, how she desperately wished Kes was here now, more than ever. Just to talk this through with him. He was bigger than any shit the world could throw at him. Except that damned white stuff that had encased and suffocated him.

Shit happens, he was fond of saying. He was right. His death was shit. Her accident was shit. Fernanda Revere’s death was shit. Everything was shit.

But most of all, the idea of walking away from her life and going into hiding, forever, was total and utter shit. It wasn’t going to happen. There had to be a better solution.

Had to be.

Suddenly her mobile phone rang. She hurried across and picked it off her bedside table, staring at the display. It simply said, International.

‘Hello?’ she answered.

‘Hi, Carly?’ It was Justin Ellis and his voice was sounding strange.

‘Yes. You all right?’ Carly replied, conscious her voice was strained. She needed paracetamol and a cup of tea, badly.

‘Well – not really,’ Justin replied. ‘I think there’s been some mix-up over Tyler.’

‘How do you mean? His dentist appointment? Have I screwed up?’ She looked at the clock radio, doing a mental calculation. She always got the time differences wrong. England was five hours ahead. Coming up to 11.15 a.m. there. Tyler’s appointment was for 11.30, wasn’t it?

‘What’s the problem, Justin?’

‘Well, you asked me to take him to the dentist. I’m at the school now to collect him, but they’re telling me you arranged a taxi to take him there.’

Carly sat down on the side of the bed. ‘A taxi? I didn’t arrange any-’

A terrible, dark dread began to seep through her.

‘A taxi collected him half an hour ago,’ Justin said, sounding a little pissed off. ‘Did you forget?’

‘Oh, God,’ Carly said. ‘Justin! Oh, my God. Tell me it’s not true?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘This can’t have happened. They must have made a mistake. Tyler has to be in the school somewhere. Have they checked? Have they looked everywhere?’ Her voice was trembling with rising panic. ‘Please get them to check. Tell them to check. Tell them they have to check.’

‘Carly, what’s the matter? What is it?’

‘Please let him be there. Please, Justin, you have to find him. Please go in there and find him. Please! Oh, my God, please.’ She stood up, hyperventilating now, walking around the room blindly. ‘Please, Justin!’

‘I don’t understand, Carly. I spoke to Mrs Rich. She walked him to the gate and watched until he was safely in the taxi.’

‘It’s not possible! It’s not possible, Justin. Please don’t tell me he’s not there.’ She was sobbing and shouting in her desperation. ‘Please tell me he’s still there!’

There was a brief moment of silence, then Justin said, ‘What’s the matter, Carly. Calm down! Tell me – what’s the matter?’

‘Justin, call the police. I did not order a taxi.’