It may just have been because I hadn’t been outside much over the past few days, but as I walked along through the woods, I was convinced the trees seemed to be growing closer together. Even though more leaves had fallen along the ground, so that they stretched out in front of me like a golden-green carpet, the branches appeared to have got thicker, blocking out more sunlight. It wasn’t raining, but the air felt damp and my breath rose in little clouds as I walked.
There was no telling if I’d actually find Adah. I had sort of come across her by accident on the couple of times I’d seen her before, but just wandering through the woods hoping to bump into her seemed a bit silly.
After a while, I reached the little bridge that went across the stream, and for a second I thought I could see Adah standing on it. But it was a branch – a big thick one, leaning on its side. It must have fallen from one of the overhanging trees during the wind and rain.
I did a little loop round, sticking to the bits of the forest I now felt I knew, and found myself along the winding path that led to the bushes and thicket – the area that hid the little hut from view. Levi’s little hut. I was slightly scared to go near it, the memories of my earlier visit flickering through my mind. Part of me wanted to see him, to talk to him, see if he was OK, but another part of me wanted to forget there was ever a boy called Levi, and that I ever knew him.
The shed was empty. I discovered this after I had got my courage up to open the door. I half expected to find Levi lying there on the old cushions and duvet reading his Bambi book, but there was nobody there.
But there was something else. Something that wasn’t there before.
Blood.
I almost stepped on it as I went to walk inside, before I saw it – a long dark trail, and some odd drops here and there. The duvet looked the most dramatic; a dark red-brown mark stained the centre. He must have been sitting on it when Mum …
I walked out of the shed quickly and closed the door.
‘What are you doing in there?’
I swung round, alarmed to have been caught out (caught out doing what, though? I wasn’t quite sure), but I relaxed a bit when I saw who it was. Adah was standing in front of me, holding a little white paper bag, pinching her mouth a bit, apparently sucking on something.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ I said.
‘Correct!’ she replied, brightly. ‘It’s me. Do you want a toffee?’
I nodded and took one, popping it into my mouth and hoping it would mean I didn’t have to answer her question. But she said it again almost straight away.
‘So, what were you doing in there? Looking for Levi?’
I thought for a few seconds, then nodded.
‘Well, you won’t find him in there. He’s gone.’
I froze. ‘What do you mean, gone? He’s not … he’s not …’
Adah looked at me like I was crazy. ‘He’s not dead. Nothing as exciting as that. I saw him yesterday. Although he was a bit weird. He seemed really strange – stranger than normal. I saw him wearing these different clothes – new clothes, nicer ones than his tatty old t-shirts. He said he had bought his motorbike or scooter or something, the one he’d wanted for ages. A guy in the garage had been teaching him to use it just for fun. Probably didn’t think he’d ever be able to buy it. But now he has, suddenly. Don’t know where he got the money from. Probably robbed a bank. Then he said he was out of here. Off for new adventures. And now I think he’s gone for good. He’s not been around here, anyway.’
I stared at her, and she nodded earnestly, as if to make it clear she was telling the truth.
We walked for a little bit in silence, then I asked her, ‘Did he mention me at all?’
Adah let out a loud laugh. ‘You? Why would he? Why, do you fancy him? I fancied a boy once. He had red hair and freckles. But then the girls at school said he was a gypsy and his brothers would steal our car if they got a chance. But he wasn’t a gypsy and my aunt doesn’t have a car, and I went off him anyway.’
I had nothing to contribute on this subject, so I stayed silent.
‘So, why you asking about Levi?’ she asked again, sounding irritated that I wasn’t giving her full enough answers.
‘I just wondered. The cabin was empty.’
I didn’t know if Adah had been in there and noticed the blood, but because she hadn’t mentioned it I thought it was best I didn’t either.
We spent a few hours in the forest not doing much – throwing sticks into the stream and watching them float along; playing a jumping game that Adah was quite a master at but I struggled with. I couldn’t get my feet to land in the right order in the circles she’d drawn in the dirt.
When we finished, tired and with mud on our shoes, we started walking in the direction of the house. It was then I realised I hadn’t asked Adah the very thing I’d come out here to ask her. ‘Would you like to come for tea?’
I saw her turn to me, immediately interested. ‘At the Witch’s Cottage?’
I nodded. ‘At my house, yes.’
She pulled a face. ‘Is it your house now? I thought you were just staying there.’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Does it matter?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I just wondered. Wouldn’t your dad mind? I thought you said your mum was poorly or something?’
I wasn’t sure how to step around this. Adah had a good memory. ‘Well, the woman who is staying with us … my dad’s friend … It was her idea to invite you. My mum will be in her room.’
Adah thought about this for a few moments, then asked, ‘Is that her way of saying sorry for keeping you from me for weeks and weeks and weeks?’
I made a noise of impatience. ‘It hasn’t been weeks and weeks and weeks! Nowhere near!’
‘Well it’s felt like it.’
Part of me liked the fact Adah had noticed my disappearance. I’d never been one for friends; I usually preferred to stay by myself a lot of the time at school. But it was like the closeness I’d felt with her, holding hands in the wood shed, hadn’t been just something I’d imagined.
‘So, do you want to come?’
Adah huffed. ‘Of course! Much better than stale old cereal for tea at home. Unless we’re having cereal at yours?’
I laughed. ‘Of course we’re not. Amanda will cook us something.’
Adah nodded. ‘OK then. I’ll come.’
We walked on a few paces and then Adah said something that made me stop. ‘It’s a shame Levi isn’t here. He could have come too.’
She looked back at me when she realised I’d stopped. ‘What? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ I said, quickly. I didn’t want to give her a reason to ask me any more questions, but it was too late.
‘Did it, like, scare you? What I showed you. Last time. When we saw him in his hut?’
I tried not to look at her. I couldn’t. It was like my head was filled with a buzzing – a whole nest of bees – and I couldn’t focus on anything as the buzzing got louder and louder.
‘Don’t … I don’t want to speak about it any more,’ I muttered. My behaviour made her even more convinced there was something to talk about.
‘What are you doing? Come on, stop messing about. You’re being silly.’ She tried to pull my arm.
‘Promise me you won’t talk about Levi!’ I shouted this now, and it shocked her. As my eyes finally found her face, I saw her looking stunned.
‘Why?’ she demanded when she’d managed to make her mouth work again. ‘Why can’t I talk about him? I can talk about who I want.’
‘Just don’t,’ I said, staring back.
She grabbed my arm again. ‘Stop being stupid,’ she said, as if she was an adult and I was her little child. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like being told I was stupid or that I didn’t understand. Because I didn’t understand, not really, but it made it even worse thinking about it. I pulled roughly away from her and she grabbed at me again. So I pushed her. ‘Stop it!’ I screamed. ‘Stop it!’
I wasn’t sure which of us dragged the other near the water’s edge. But suddenly we were there. And as I shoved Adah away, getting ready to run – to bolt back to the house and leave her out here alone – I saw her topple. Her face jerked as she realised she was about to lose her balance, and she flailed, trying to grab me again – not to pull me or hurry me up this time, but to save herself. But her hands weren’t fast enough. There was a splash. And a shriek.
Blood was rushing into my head, making my ears pound and my balance go wobbly. I heard Adah gargle something. It might have been ‘help!’ or ‘please!’ but I couldn’t quite work it out. And I just stood there. Very still. Watching.