It had been in the afternoon, and Jake and Daddy were coming back from school. It was usually Mummy who picked him up on that day, because it was supposed to be one of Daddy’s days to work, but that wasn’t what happened.
Daddy wrote stories for a living, and people paid him to read them, which Jake personally thought was exceptionally cool. And Daddy sometimes agreed that, yes, it was. For one thing, he didn’t have to wear a suit and go into an office every day and be told what to do like lots of other parents did. But it was also hard, because it didn’t seem like a job to other people.
Jake didn’t know all the ins and outs of it, but he was dimly aware that this had caused problems between his parents at one point, in that Daddy was doing most of the pickups and drop-offs, and that meant he wasn’t writing quite so many stories. The solution was that Mummy started picking him up more often. This had been meant to be one of her days. But then Daddy turned up and explained that Mummy wasn’t feeling well, and so he’d had to come instead.
That was the way he said it. Had to come instead.
“Is she okay?” Jake said.
“She’s fine,” Daddy said. “She was just a bit light-headed when she got back from work, and so she’s having a lie-down.”
Jake believed him, because of course Mummy was fine. But Daddy seemed more tense than normal, and Jake wondered if his most recent story had been going less well than usual, and that having to come out to collect Jake was … well. What was the opposite of icing on a cake?
Jake often felt like he was a problem for Daddy. That things would be a bit easier if he weren’t around.
And in the car, Daddy asked the usual questions about his day, and how things had been, and what he’d done. As always, Jake did his best not to answer them. There was nothing exciting to say, and he didn’t think Daddy was really all that interested anyway.
They parked outside the house.
“Can I go in and see Mummy?”
He half expected Daddy to say no, although he wasn’t sure why—maybe because it was something that Jake really wanted to do, and so Daddy would say no just to spoil his fun. But that wasn’t very fair, because Daddy just smiled and ruffled his hair.
“Of course, mate. Just be gentle with her, okay?”
“I will.”
The door was unlocked, and he ran into the house without taking his shoes off. That was something Mummy would normally tell him off for, because she liked to keep the place clean and tidy, but they weren’t dirty or anything, and he wanted to see her and try to make her feel better. He ran through the kitchen and into the living room.
And then he stopped.
Because there was something wrong. The curtains at the far end of the room were open, and the afternoon sun was coming in at an angle, lighting up half the room. It looked peaceful, and everything was very still and silent. But that was the problem. Even when someone was hiding from you, you could usually tell that they were there somewhere, because people took up space and that altered the pressure somehow. The house right now didn’t feel like that at all.
It felt empty.
Daddy was still outside, probably doing something with the car. Jake walked slowly across the living room, but it was more like the room was walking backward past him. The silence was so huge that it felt like he might bruise it if he wasn’t careful.
To the side of the window, the door was open. It led to the small area at the bottom of the stairs. As Jake stepped closer, he could see more and more of it.
The marbled glass of the back door.
The only sound now was his own heartbeat.
The white wallpaper.
Approaching so slowly that he was barely moving.
The knotted wooden handrail.
He looked down at the floor.
Mummy—
“Daddy!”
Jake screamed the word before he was even properly awake. Then he tucked himself down entirely beneath the covers and shouted it again, his small heart beating hard. He hadn’t had the nightmare since the old house, and the shock of it had gotten a whole lot bigger while it had been gone.
He waited.
He wasn’t sure what time it was, or how long he’d been asleep, but surely it had been long enough that Daddy must be home by now? A moment later, he heard steady footsteps coming up the stairs.
Jake risked poking his head out. The hall light was still on, and a shadow stretched into the room as someone came in.
“Hey,” the man said softly. “What’s the matter?”
Pete, Jake remembered. He liked Pete well enough, but the fact remained that Pete was not Daddy, and Daddy was who he wanted and needed to be walking over to him right now.
Pete was very old, but he sat down cross-legged beside the bed in a quick, decisive movement.
“What’s wrong?”
“I had a bad dream. Where’s Daddy?”
“He’s not back yet. Bad dreams are horrible, aren’t they? What was this one about?”
Jake shook his head. He’d never told even Daddy what the nightmare was about, and he wasn’t sure he ever would.
“That’s okay.” Pete nodded to himself. “I have bad dreams too, you know? Quite often, in fact. But I actually think it’s all right to have them.”
“How can it be all right?”
“Because sometimes really bad things happen to us, and we don’t like to think about them, so they get buried really deep in our heads.”
“Like earworms?”
“I suppose so, yes. But they have to come out eventually. And bad dreams can be our brain’s way of dealing with that. Breaking it all down into smaller and smaller pieces, until eventually there’s nothing left anymore.”
Jake considered that. The nightmare had been even more frightening than ever, so it felt more like his mind was building something up rather than breaking it down. But then, it always ended at the same point, before he could properly remember seeing Mummy lying on the floor. Maybe Pete was right. Perhaps his own mind was so scared that it had to build itself up for that sight before it could begin to break it down.
“I know it doesn’t make it any easier,” Pete said. “But you know what? A nightmare can never, ever hurt you. There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“I know that,” Jake said. “But I still want my daddy.”
“He’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”
“I need him now.” With the return of the nightmare, along with the little girl’s warning earlier, Jake was more sure than ever that something was wrong. “Can you call him and get him to come home?”
Pete was silent for a moment.
“Please?” Jake said. “He won’t mind.”
“I know he won’t.”
Pete took out his cell phone, and Jake watched anxiously as he swiped through, pressed the screen, and then held it up to his ear.
Downstairs, the front door opened.
“Ah.” Pete canceled the call. “I guess that’s okay, then. Will you be all right up here for a minute while I go down and get him?”
No, Jake thought, I won’t. He didn’t want to spend another second up here in the darkness by himself. But at least Daddy was home now, and he felt a flood of relief at that.
“Okay.”
Pete stood up and walked out of the room, and Jake heard his footsteps going back down the stairs, and then him calling out Daddy’s name.
Jake stared at the wedge of illuminated hallway beyond the bedroom door, listening carefully. For a few seconds there was nothing but silence. But then he heard something he couldn’t identify. Movement of some kind, as though furniture were being shifted about. And people talking, only with sounds instead of words, like when you were trying really hard to do something and the effort made you make a noise.
Another loud sound. Something heavy falling over.
And then silence again.
Jake thought about calling out for Daddy, but for some reason his heart was thudding hard in his chest again, as hard as it had been when he’d first woken up from the nightmare, and the silence was ringing so much that it felt like he was back inside it, back in their old living room.
He stared at the empty hallway, waiting.
A few seconds later, there was a new sound. Footsteps on the stairs again. Someone was coming up, but they were moving slowly and carefully, as though they were scared of the silence too.
And then someone whispered his name.