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The sun was setting as Sarah and Luke arrived at a field around the back of Greyson Avenue. They sat down by a tree at the far end of the end.
'This is where me and Toby normally hang out, usually for a sneaky can of beer or a smoke'. Luke pushed aside a pile of grass next to the tree stump and revealed a large hole.
'Come on in, this is our secret den'.
Sarah looked in the hole and turned up her nose.
'I'm not getting in there, look at all that dirt. I'll never get it out of my nails'. Luke grabbed her hand and pulled her in to the muddy hole, landing on a pile of old newspapers.
'See, it's cool. There is a chair either side, we've got a radio, and a stash of beers, what else could we need?'.
Sarah wasn't impressed.
'It's a pig sty. There's no sign of Toby so get me out will you?'. Luke cracked open a can of beer.
'No sign of him, yet. He's bound to come back eventually. Let's just wait it out for a bit. Here, have one' said Luke passing a can.
'Not for me thanks'.
'Oh yeah, forgot you're posh'.
Sarah looked shocked.
'I'm not posh, I live on the Nesbitt estate!'.
Luke took a large swig of beer.
'Yeah, but your family are. All the dressing up and going to church nonsense. I bet you get out the bath to pee as well'.
Sarah looked disgusted.
'Of course I do, I'm not an animal'.
Luke let out a loud laugh.
'Ha, I'm joking you idiot. I don't bother in the shower though'. Sarah threw a rolled up newspaper at him.
'You are foul Luke. I don't know why Toby hangs around with you'.
'Because we get each other. We both love woodwork and we both have useless parents. We look out for each other because no one else does, and it's been like that since we were little'. Sarah managed to crack a smile.
'I suppose that is kind of sweet. I just wish I could teach that Carl Lane a lesson though. I've heard about what he said to Toby the other day. I hate him'. Luke pulled out some tobacco and started rolling a cigarette.
'Yeah, I feel bad for not sticking up for him in class. I was being a pussy. Hey, do you reckon Toby's got like some special powers? It’s weird all those people that keep dying around him'. Sarah gave him a disappointed look.
'Since when did you start smoking? It's a disgusting habit'.
'Guess you don't want one then?' asked Luke offering the tobacco pouch.
'Of course I don't, but you carry on and smell like an ash tray if you like' said Sarah brushing mud from her trousers. 'Damn, these were clean on today. I have no idea what's going on. My dad would say it's an act of god, but I don't believe in that. I believe in what I can see'.
'Me too. I reckon he's got some kind of radiation or energy coming out of him, maybe that's what kills people. It's cool whatever it is'. Sarah frowned at him.
'Is it though? Mr Cooper, that nurse and Ethel at the fete? Did they all deserve it? I don't think so. Something is seriously messed up and I'm really worried about Toby'. Luke got up from the chair and gulped the last drop of beer from the can.
'You're right, let's head back to his house, he may have gone back there as it's getting dark'.
As Luke clambered out of the hole he spotted a figure walking towards him. He froze for a moment but as the figure got closer he could see more clearly.
'Toby! Dude, we've been looking for you everywhere'. Sarah pulled herself out of the hole with the help of Luke’s trousers and ran towards Toby flinging her arms around him.
'I've been worried sick about you. We've been looking for you for ages, are you Ok?'. Toby looked at her and stroked her cheek.
'I'm fine. I've just been to my house but there's still no sign of my mum, and there is a massive fire at the Anvil. I was there but had to leave before the police arrived. Sarah looked at Luke. 'Yeah, there's something we need to tell you'.
There was a loud knock at the door of 24 Greyson Avenue. Giles Sayer was still attached to the hallway ceiling.
'Who is it?'.
'Oh, sorry to bother you, my names Doreen Baker, I think my daughter is a friend of your son, Luke?' replied the voice from behind the door.
'Right. Well, Luke's not here at the moment' said Giles from the ceiling. 'Listen, can you do me a favour lady?'.
'Yes, of course' replied Doreen.
'If you look under the plant pot by the door there is the key to get in. Can you let yourself in and give me a hand?'. Doreen bent down and lifted up the pot revealing a silver key.
'Can you not open the door from the inside?'. Giles let out a snort.
'Do you think I'd ask you to open the door if I could?'.
'Alright, no need to be rude about it. I'm opening the door now'.
Doreen poked her head around the door.
'Hello?'.
'I'm up here' said Giles.
Doreen tilted her head upwards to be greeted by the sight of Giles stuck to the ceiling.
'Oh my, what are you doing up there?'
'My god woman, you don't half ask some stupid questions.
Go in to the kitchen and bring me back a stool so I can get down' snapped Giles. Doreen rushed in to the kitchen and picked up a stool from under the table. It felt sticky and smelt suspiciously like dog wee. Taking a deep breath she brought it back in to the hallway.
'Place it underneath my legs' said Giles whose face had got very red due to the blood rushing to it.
'Are you stuck with glue?' asked Doreen.
'Of course I'm bloody not. Why would I glue myself to the ceiling?'.
'I do wish you wouldn't take that tone. I'm just trying to work out how you managed to stick yourself to the ceiling'.
Giles tried to bring his legs down towards the stool, but they wouldn't move.
'Listen Dorridge, or whatever your name is', 'Doreen, Doreen Baker is my name'.
'Whatever. I didn't put myself up here. This has got something to do with that weird kid Toby, maybe he's possessed or something, but I ended up here and I can't get down. You're going to have to get on the stool and pull my legs'. Doreen looked at the wee stained stool and thought twice.
'Hurry up woman!'.
Doreen managed to get her knees on to the stool and reach up to grab hold of one of Giles' legs.
'Right, finally. Now try and pull my legs towards the stool'.
Doreen pulled at his legs but they wouldn't move.
'They're not moving, you must have used some really strong glue'.
'For the third time, I haven't glued myself to the bloody ceiling! Just pull harder'. Doreen closed her eyes, took a deep breath and pulled as hard as she could.
A loud ripping noise signalled the departure of Giles from the ceiling as he came crashing down on top of Doreen, sending them both tumbling in to the kitchen. Doreen opened her eyes and was greeted by a pair of hairy testicles dangling in front of her eyes.
'Ewww! Please get off me'.
Giles put his hands on his backside and felt a large expanse of skin exposed by the considerable hole in his jeans. He jumped off her and covered himself with a towel.
'Sorry about that. Thank god that's over, do you know that I was up there for hours? Been calling out for ages but nobody heard me'. Doreen was trying to keep her eyes focused on Giles head.
'Please don't take the lord's name in vain. Just be glad that you're Ok'. Giles opened the fridge and took out a can of beer.
'Fancy one?'.
'Good grief no, I only drink a port at Christmas'. Giles opened a can and sat down at the kitchen table.
'What did you come over for again?'.
'Well, I'm looking for my daughter Sarah, I don't suppose she has been around here? I know she was friendly with that Toby lad, but there's no one in at his house, just a big hole in the front door'. Giles took a large slug of beer and belched.
'Yep, dunno's what happened there, probably to do with his nut job mother. That's boy is messed up. He's the reason I've been stuck on my ceiling for the past few hours'. Doreen began to look more agitated.
'Do you know where there might have gone? There's been an awful incident at the church regarding her father and I need to find her'.
Giles put down his can.
'Try the field behind the houses, they sometimes hang out there'.
'Thank you, you've been very helpful. If they do come here can you tell Sarah I'm looking for her?'.
'Course. Hey, anytime you fancy coming over and having a beer, just let me know yeah?'. Doreen looked at Giles with one testicle hanging out of his towel and beer stains on his vest. 'Yes, I'll um, bear that in mind'.