Thieving Fear

'That should be me.'

'You mustn't say that. You've nothing to be ashamed of. You're the same, same person you've always been.'

Charlotte thought this was increasingly less accurate, but wasn't it also the case with her and Hugh? She might have suggested as much if Ellen hadn't said 'I'm sorry, now I'm starting arguments. Forget I spoke.'

Charlotte doubted he could do this any more than she was able to. Perhaps his attempts kept him silent as far as the bridge over the ring road. As they stepped onto it he raised his voice. 'Watch out for the troll.'

'Why are you saying that?' Ellen presumably wanted to know.

'Our dad used to,' he said so awkwardly that Charlotte didn't need to look back to know his face had turned red.

As the polluted uproar from below closed around them, Charlotte found little to enjoy in the notion of a presence waiting under the bridge to snatch her and her cousins into blackness. Of course it couldn't be so dark above the ring road, and she wasn't going to imagine that descending the hill brought the party closer to any such presence. The interior of the station wasn't dark, even if a huge voice that sounded blurred by dirt seemed to bring the walls and the roof of the booking hall inwards. As Charlotte made for the nearest ticket window Ellen said 'Buy mine and I'll pay you.'

'I will as well,' Hugh said at once.

Charlotte felt like the solitary adult in charge of an outing, at least until she led her cousins past the unstaffed barrier onto the train. Hugh seemed uncertain where to sit in the deserted carriage, and ready to move yet again once the women were seated. Ellen looked uncomfortable wherever she rested her gaze, on her cousins or her lap or the empty aisle, and Charlotte was oppressed by her behaviour and Hugh's, not to mention Ellen's overpowering perfumes. There was worse to come, she remembered as the train cruised forwards: there was the tunnel. Every shadow that flooded the carriage was a reminder, every bridge felt capable of growing longer than its dark should last. She rummaged in her mind for a topic of conversation, the more neutral the better. 'Will you have to take a holiday, Hugh?'

'Where?' His own question seemed to confuse him. 'When?' he tried instead.

'Now, I was thinking.'

'I wouldn't call this much of a holiday.'

The left side of his mouth betrayed that he was straining at a joke. Ellen took it seriously enough to shake her head in agreement, then raised her hands just short of holding it still. 'I meant time off from work,' Charlotte said.

'For Rory,' Ellen appeared to think he needed to be told.

'I know what for.' Hugh stared out at a small station that was dragging the train to a halt. He might have been waiting until the door alarm cued his next line. 'They sent me home,' he said.

'Because of Rory? That was kind of them, wasn't it, Charlotte? It's good to know there are still some employers who –'

'Because of me.'

As fields carried off the small town Charlotte felt trapped between the unwashed windows, and Hugh seemed to see nothing on either side to encourage him. 'You'd have been upset, would you?' Ellen offered him. 'I'm sure they understood. We all were, but he's your brother.'

'He wasn't hurt then. I was no use, that's all.'

'Of course you are. You're all sorts of use. Who said you weren't?'

'Me. Didn't you hear me?'

'If it's only you that thinks it,' Charlotte said, 'we certainly don't, and I'll bet –'

'There are plenty, and one's all it takes.'

Charlotte had a sense of buried glee, but how could it be Hugh's or anybody's there? The blackened underside of a bridge filled the window beyond him, giving way to a dazzle of sunlight that rendered the glass more opaque. 'You shouldn't let people . . .' Ellen said and seemed to regret having spoken.

'It's not just people.'

Charlotte felt as if Ellen were leaving her to put a question neither of them wanted to ask. 'What, then?'

'It's Frugo. I can't find my way round now it's bigger, and it's affected me. You know it has.'

It was certainly blotching his face. 'Don't let it get on top of you,' she said. 'Go back as soon as you can and do . . . what do you think, Ellen?'

'See if you can find your way and if you can't there must be people who can help.'

'They aren't like you. Not many people care like you do.' His gaze dodged back and forth, perhaps in search of a way for him not to admit 'I've been suspended. I had a row with my supervisor and someone else as well.'

'They haven't fired you yet, though,' Charlotte said.

'They will, for misconduct. No point arguing. You know how that goes, Ellen.'

'Even if she does you should at least –'

Charlotte couldn't help starting as her mobile went off. She silenced it, wishing that she hadn't used the We Go Frugo jingle as her new ringtone for a joke, only for the displayed number to aggravate her tension. 'Yes, Glen.'

'Is this a bad time?'

'I've had better.'

'Gee, I'm sorry. Should I leave this till you want to call me back?'

'If we need to talk it may as well be now.'

'We aren't likely to be cut off, are we? You sound shut in.'

She yearned to deny it as another bridge engulfed the carriage and was swept away by sunlight that emphasised the thickness of the muddy window. 'Say what you have to say, Glen,' she urged.

'How's your cousin?'

'Not conscious yet, the last we heard. We're on our way to see him.'

'Ellen's with you, right? The reason I'm calling is mainly for her. Maybe I should speak to her in person.'

As Charlotte held out the phone Ellen said 'Doesn't it work so we can both hear?'

'Do you want me to go away?' Hugh said, though he seemed to be pleading for the reverse.

'I meant you as well,' Ellen said without taking the mobile. 'You're involved too.'

Charlotte looked away from his colourful reaction and poked the hands-free button. 'Glen? Can you hear me?'

'Pretty well,' he said a little fuzzily but loud enough to be comprehensible above the muffled thunder of the wheels. 'Are we in a meeting?'

'Ellen would prefer it if you don't mind.'

'Whatever's best for our author. Good to speak to you at last, Ellen. Let's hope we'll have a reason to get together and celebrate soon.'

She seemed not to know where to put her hands – nowhere near her face and not in her lap. Splaying her fingers on the upholstery on either side of her, she leaned forwards. 'You weren't calling to say we have.'

'Working on it. How's the new book coming?'

'I'm a bit distracted at the moment,' Ellen said, and her lips worked as if searching for a shape.

'I figured you might be. That's why I thought I'd help. I had some spare time, so I looked into the place you came up with. Thurstaston.'

Ellen pressed her lips fat and then sucked them inwards, so that Charlotte might have felt compelled to speak if Hugh hadn't. 'What did you find?'

Glen's voice grew louder but less clear. 'Who's that?'

'Only Hugh,' Hugh said. 'Their cousin.'

'Hi, Hugh. Sorry, I thought I heard someone else. I guess they were up on the street. Couldn't have been down here.'

Charlotte didn't care to be reminded that his apartment was below street level. 'So you said you looked where again?'

'The net. That's my Saturday night, a man and his computer.' Was he listening for her reaction? He paused before adding 'I found a bunch of stuff about a guy who lived there that maybe you could work up somehow, Ellen. Thurstaston Mound, he lived at. Well, more than lived.'

The carriage shook. The train was braking for a station, but the shudder or Glen's last remark was enough to send Ellen's hands towards her face. Perhaps they were intended to suppress a question. Charlotte wasn't eager to ask it, however much their muteness felt like an unacknowledged presence. She could have imagined this was why Hugh blurted 'You mean Pendemon.'