Williams - The House of Shadows

Were explorers, he whispered, reaching for Lilys thin hand. And so they were, passing deep into unfamiliar land, looking for dragons, treasure, except they werent looking for things but freedom. Pulling the branches aside and entering the forest they had been so consistently forbidden. Dont go there. Promise me. He could almost feel the blueish light burn his cheeks, fluttering like flame on a stove.

Hed thought she would be afraid. As they passed over a branch, she let go of his hand and then she was moving forward, her dark hair swinging down her back.

Come on, she said. He followed her, even though inside he was crying out. Let me go first. She was going on, jumping over the knotty branches on the floor, as if it was a game. Its not a game! The whole wood was silent now. You couldnt hear the noises theyd left behind, the adults, drinking and talking and laughing in the warm late summer air even though it wasnt funny, none of it was ever funny. They lied, pretended, didnt live for the truth. He and Lily would never be like them, not ever.

He caught his ankle on a branch, almost fell. The damp ground dipped towards a stream, fast running, faster than it should be for September. The dashing water filled his head. Hed drawn a map but he hadnt put in a stream. He couldnt think where it had begun, it would have to start in the Stoneythorpe garden, but there was only that stagnant pond in the place where he and Lily had sat and made their dreams until the adults had come in and everything had been spoiled. He thought of his mother, holding tight to him in those early days, telling him shed never leave him. His heart lurched and he threw his mind into the rushing dark water, staring at it until the thought of his mother went away.

We have to jump, said Lily. Come on.

A few years ago, theyd played explorer games. Arctic, Africa, India. It had to be the Arctic first, he said. Start at the top. They fought polar bears, skipped over icebergs, chased the woolly mammoths. The worlds had been divided by the stream and when they grew weary of one, they were supposed to leap to another. Lily would always mark out the stream in the garden. Jump, she said, already weary of polar bears, keen for new beasts, capturing lions in Africa or wrestling snakes. He didnt want to, he wanted to stay where they were. We havent finished!

Yes, we have. Come on.

And so he did, leaving the world unfinished behind him, waiting for them to return.

Lily leapt over the stream. She waited on the other side, hands on hips. Why are you so slow?

That pierced his soul. He stared at her, dark figure against the tangled branches on the other side. The trees were like strands of a womans hair. Lily had pulled her hair down as they had run together and now he wanted to beg her: Put it back! Tie it up before it gets tangled in the hair of the tree and girl and tree become one.

He took a step, felt his foot slide in the mud. He grasped at a branch. I dont want to fall, he wanted to say. Lily was already turning away.

Hed jumped over a million streams, surely. Hed jumped into the sea, swimming ponds, a river or two. His mind filled with his aunt, whod fallen from the cliff and died on the rocks. But why did his mind do that? If he fell in, hed only get wet. Aunt Louisa had died, looking at the sea. Uncle Arthur had held out his hands to catch her but he couldnt stop her fall.

He shook the thought away. They were leaving all that behind, all the secrets and boxes full of letters and all that talking but no one ever telling the truth.

He landed in the mud on the other side, reached out and held tight to Lily.

Finally! she said, shaking off his hand. Lets go.

Now they were together. They could never be parted. He moved forward and his foot caught. He looked down at the spiral of small vines and pulled it free.

He had been in charge of the planning. Weeks of hiding from the adults, writing lists in his room. He drew a map and hid it under her bookshelf. Every day, one of them would steal some type of foodstuff from the pantry, a box of something, a packet of sugar, a tin of meat, food that wouldnt spoil. They took sheets and blankets from the cupboard, packed them up into his bag, along with other things they really needed, like toothpaste and soap, their notebooks.

Theyd spend the first night in the woods, so that no one would find them, and then head towards the road, where theyd find someone to take them in a car along the way. No one would guess his real age, theyd think he was quite grown, not eleven at all. He would draw and shed write stories for money and then they could travel, live in France, Italy, places by the sea. They wouldnt be like the others, bowed down by work and home and money, never seeing what really mattered.

Theyd stolen from their grandmother. One day, shed beckoned him into the room where she lay on the pile of pillows. He didnt much like her room, the air hung heavy, full of scent that smelt of forced flowers. On all the sides of the room were vases, of wobbly, wavy, marbled glass, pale colours, pink, mauve, turquoise, green, with cut lips like fancy tulips.

No one likes my vases, she said to him. They say theyre ugly. My mother said they were ugly, even then. Do you think so?

I think they are nice, he said. And you like them, thats all that matters.

Verena lay back, smiled. I knew youd understand. She held out a finger, heavy with its gold ring and sharp-shaved jewel. Come here.

He went closer, into the jungle leaves of scent, the pink silk cushions.

Closer. She pointed at the floor and he knelt.

He was by her bed now. The scent was cloying, like cotton wool in his nose. He held his breath.

Its all money, hissed Verena. The sound rushed around his ear like when you hold a seashell to it. Money! They all laugh at those vases but theyre full of money. All my money. Thats where it is.

She fell back against the pillows, as if exhausted by the effort. And when I die you shall have all of it. Dont forget. Come here and take it.

Thank you.

You deserve it. You deserve everything.

Hed stayed kneeling, not sure what to do. And then he looked up and her eyes were closed. Hed crept backwards then, so she didnt notice, out, the scent clinging to his hair and eyes.

And then hed gone in and taken it. All of it. When she was asleep, hed swept it into his hands and however wrong hed felt, it hadnt stopped him.

Lily too had stolen. Shed taken all the money from the box that her mother kept under the bed a whole twenty pounds.

Ill go back, Lily said. One day. Explain she didnt really need the money like we do. She wont mind.

Would Verena feel the same? He didnt know.

Come closer, she said. We need to go deeper! The thicket was dense around them, close on their shoulders.

I wrote on the map we should go around. Not through.

She shook her head. Her black eyes glittered against her bright cheeks and he wanted to touch her hand, the two of them against the world. Even though he was plain and childish next to her. He felt he could never reach her.

You never know what we might find.

Arent you afraid?

I have you! Why would I be afraid? Ill go first. She ducked her head, moved forwards. He watched her.

And then there was a sound. A branch cracked. A bird fluttered, flew to the sky. There was someone there. Someone behind them. Michael swung around. The shadows skittered away. Mice, voles maybe.

He turned back for Lily.

He cried out, reached forward, looked frantically. Nothing.

The air was closing around where her shape had been. He reached out to stop it but it was no good. Too late.

Lily had gone.