Page 32 of The Temp

‘Sorry, you’re right,’ I say, and then there’s another loud crash, like a building collapsing. ‘That’s definitely no fox.’

We leap to our feet and race to the back door, knocking into each other in our haste. I rattle the handle but it won’t open.

‘I locked it behind us,’ Linda says, ‘and put the key on the side. I think. Where’s it gone?’

‘Oh, fucking hell, Linda,’ I yell.

‘The French doors in the lounge,’ Zelda enthuses.

Zelda bolts out of the kitchen and we barrel after her. Once she finally finds the keys, she unlocks the patio doors, hands visibly trembling. We fly into the garden, panting, chests heaving, and then we all stop still and stare at each other, horrified. Frank has gone.

Chapter 29

‘For fuck’s sake,’ Linda cries. ‘Where is he?’

Zelda falls to her knees, palms pressed together. ‘I didn’t kill him. Oh, thank God.’

‘Shit,’ Linda continues, elbowing past me and peering over the back gate, ‘do you think he wandered off into next door’s building site?’

‘God knows,’ I reply, heart whacking against my ribcage like a squash ball. I’m glad he’s alive, although he doesn’t deserve to be. But at least my sister hasn’t got blood on her hands. That said, I haven’t got a clue what to do now. Frank isn’t going to just let this go.

‘Why would he wander into the building site?’ Zelda asks, scrambling to her feet. ‘There’s nothing in there and he knows the owners are away.’

I pull my dressing gown around me tightly, blocking out the chill. ‘I’d imagine he’s gone to A&E to get that stab wound looked at. That’s what I’d have done.’ Via the police station to report Zelda for assault, but I don’t tell her that. The last thing I want is to freak her out again. ‘But we’d best check all the same,’ I suggest. I look at the back gate, which is swung open. He must’ve left it open in his haste to get away. ‘Let’s go out the front and have a look. He can’t have gone far, not with an injury like that.’

We hound the streets, each of us in different directions, eyes like scanners, but Frank is nowhere to be seen. He seems to have disappeared into thin air. ‘Let’s have a look down the driveway, see if he left a trail, spots of blood, something we can follow,’ Linda suggests, and Zelda yelps, like a frightened dog, clutching the sleeve of my dressing gown. ‘Come on, there’s no time to waste.’

We walk along the downward slope of the shared driveway, negotiating our way around three concrete gully surrounds, bags of sand and several stacks of chipping stones. The moment we reach the excavation, I hear the sound of running water. I gather my dressing gown around me. It’s darker and creepier than I remember back here. Maybe it’s because there’s no friendly light on next door and the upstairs is vacated, pitch black.

‘God, Zelda, how can you live here on your own?’ Linda says. ‘I’d shit myself.’

‘It’s all I can afford.’

‘What’s that noise?’ Linda whispers. ‘It sounds like a stream.’

‘Next door’s drains. They’ve got a leak,’ Zelda explains. We inch closer. The cavity is deep and dark. I pull out my phone and shine the torch in the excavation.

‘Can you see anything?’ We all peer into the pit. Linda and Zelda shake their heads. Zelda was right, it’s full of rubbish, rubble and stacks of builders’ shipping pallets. My eyes race over the litter. A white carrier bag, flapping in the wind, desperately trying to free itself from the neck of a large bottle of cola catches my attention, next to it lie several empty pizza boxes and yellow polystyrene food containers, with smears of red sauce and bits of food stuck to them. I can see now why Zelda says it’s a haven for vermin. No sign of Frank. ‘Let’s go further in,’ I suggest, ‘along the side slope and look inside the pit properly. Does that lead into the garden?’

‘There’s no way I’m fucking going down there,’ Linda shrieks, taking a step back.

‘Zee?’ My sister is transfixed on the excavation as if she’s under some kind of spell.

‘Sorry, yes, it does,’ Zelda says, tuning back in. ‘But he wouldn’t have gone down there, Bella. There’s no exit at the bottom of the slope. It’s closed off and dangerous. You can’t go down there without a hard hat. Ian popped in and explained it all to me last week and Frank was here, so he knows it’s a no-go zone.’

‘We’ve got to do something, girls, and fast,’ Linda insists, pulling out a box of Marlborough Lights from her crossbody bag and lighting up. ‘We should’ve called the police right away. Are they Frank’s?’ She blows smoke from the side of her mouth, closing one eye.

We follow Linda’s gaze. There’s a pair of army green wellingtons at the side of the garage. ‘No, they’re my gardening boots. I was meant to put them in the garage this morning, but forgot.’

‘Right.’ Linda blows the smoke high and I look at it longingly. ‘Here,’ she says begrudgingly, handing me the fag, ‘it’ll take the edge off.’

‘Look, we know Frank’s injured,’ I point out, flicking ash off her cigarette. ‘So, he can’t have gone far.’ I take a deep inhalation, relishing every second.

‘But I didn’t kill him,’ Zelda says.

‘Did you drive here or get a cab?’ Linda asks me, ignoring Zelda.

I shake my head, blowing out smoke. ‘Daisy dropped me off, but I told her to go home if I wasn’t out in ten.’ I give Linda her ciggie back and check the time on my phone. ‘That was over an hour ago.’

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