31

“God, Phil, what good did you think any of that would do?”

Mr Armitage had finished recounting his return to Number Seven to Mrs Careen. He shrugged and gave a look imploring her not to make him feel worse than he already did. They both paused. His guilt created the perfect opening for her to tell him the conversation she’d had with Calum, wagering that his frustration at himself would temper his anger at her - or so she reasoned.

“Calum and I had a nice chat this evening,” she said, “a special boy, that one.”

Mr Armitage nodded, but glanced at her uneasily.

“What did you talk about?”

“All sorts really, but he had plenty of questions about the man he’s reckoned to be his new guardian.”

“Doubly unfortunate, getting me as guardian,” he scoffed.

She poured the remainder of the pot of cedar tea into Mr Armitage’s cup and sat back down.

“What did you tell the lad?” He quietly insisted, tilting his head back and looking up at the ceiling, willing himself to remain calm regardless of what she said next. He’d further damaged enough relationships tonight with old ghosts. Couldn't afford any rifts with the living.

“I told him a little of what I know to be true - that what happened to him and his family is somehow tied up with you and your girls - when you found them, and when you lost them.”

At their mention, the three began approaching again.

“I know we won’t see Conor again,” she continued, “or Ella. But we have to keep this one, Phil, we have to.”

All his small fissures were worsening. Compound fractures. He felt the earth beneath him cracking open, willing him in. He fought it, reached up and struggled to remain in the room with Mrs Careen.

“I’m not convinced we won’t be seeing Conor again. But I agree, we need to keep Calum close.”

Mrs Careen felt a jolt of delight at these words. He was a wonderful guardian. He knew he’d have more questions from Calum once he’d had a chance to pull at the threads between his own torment and that of the sisters. But that would come tomorrow.

He rose to head upstairs for the boy, and as he turned, he kicked the dog's water bowl as it spilt on the floor. “Jesus, do you really need that?” he asked. He apologised as she threw him a tea-towel. He wiped up and then continued towards the staircase, careful not to make a noise. He found the boy in Mrs Careen's bed and wrapped him up in blankets. Calum’s face burrowed into his chest when he picked him up. He carried him downstairs, kissed Mrs Careen on the cheek and let her kiss the boy on the forehead as he moved back through the hedge holes and eventually laid him down in Bethany’s bed.

When he was alone again, he went and lay in Sara’s bed, which was too short for him, of course, as it had also been for her. He lay his face in her pillow and thought of Number Seven, his neighbour, lit by the cool green light, blood pooling from his chin and running down his neck. He wouldn’t help.