“Good weather today.”
“Aye.”
“Nothing to hold her up.”
“No.”
“She’ll not be long.”
“She’ll not be long.”
And there she was. The Sapphire, gliding across the water. Barry felt hope in his chest, just like he’d done every morning since Mum left. And every morning, as the ferry had come closer, he’d felt the hope wash away when he saw no library van on the bottom deck. And his Mum never waved at him from the top deck because she wasn’t there.
But maybe this morning.
He shielded his eyes from the sun, but its reflection on the water made him squint. The ferry appeared as a black shape against silver, nothing Barry could make out. As it came closer, he saw the forms of people on the upper deck, but still the lower deck remained obscured by the glare. Then a cloud passed across the sun, and he saw the reds and blues of cars, a white delivery van, and there, to the back, the bright splashes of colour on the library van.
Barry couldn’t help but giggle. The smile felt strange on his mouth after so many days without. He found himself jumping on the spot, a dizzy feeling behind his eyes like when Mum would spin him around, his hands clasped in hers.
Then a dark feeling pierced the joy.
Mum should be here too.
Old Man Gove trudged down the slip as the ferry’s apron ramp lowered. The metal met the concrete with a clang and clatter, and Old Man Gove waved the first of the cars off the boat. Barry waited by the railing at the edge of the car park, the vehicles passing him one by one.
At last, the library van climbed the slip, up and into the car park, to the far side where it would stay until the ferry made the return journey that evening.
Barry ran to it, the backpack full of books slapping against his shoulders. He reached the side door and knocked it hard enough to hurt his knuckles.
The door opened, and Barry’s heart felt like it might burst when he saw Josie on the top step, smiling down at him.
“Hiya, Barry,” she said. “Up you come.”
She reached down, took his hand, helped him up and into the van. Rob the driver already had his newspaper open on the steering wheel and was pouring himself a cup of tea from his thermos.
Josie looked past Barry, out into the sunlit car park, the smile falling away from her lips.
“Where’s your Mum?” she asked.
Barry shrugged the backpack off, unzipped it, and emptied the contents onto the floor. “I brought her books back. Mine too.”
Josie hunkered down in front of him. “Barry, where’s your mum?”
“Can you read my books for me?” Barry asked.
Josie got on her knees and took hold of Barry’s arms. “Tell me, where’s your mum?”
He didn’t want to tell her, but she looked him in the eye.
“She left,” he said.
And then it all came out. All the worry. All the pain. All the fear. It gushed out of him along with the tears he’d been holding back. He collapsed into her arms, and she gathered him up, and he cried and cried as she rocked him, saying, “Oh sweetheart, oh darling . . .”
The van rattled and juddered along the road to Barry’s house. Rob drove, his newspaper stashed into a pocket in the door. Barry sat on Josie’s knee, the seatbelt strapping them both to the passenger seat. She had insisted they come here. Rob had argued, said they couldn’t leave the car park, but Josie had shouted at him, and Rob had said, okay, okay, don’t get your knickers in a twist.
The engine grumbled as the van climbed the steep lane to the house before the ground flattened out. It occurred to Barry for the first time that it wasn’t a nice house. It was small and old and dirty looking with a garage that had never had a car in it.
“You wait here,” Josie said to Rob. “I’ll find out what’s going on and then we’ll head back, all right?”
“Just don’t be long,” Rob said.
Josie helped Barry climb down from the van and onto the gravel with its tufts of moss and grass. She held his hand as they walked to the front door.
“Will your dad be home?” she asked.
“Dunno,” Barry said. “I don’t think so.”
She knocked on the door and listened to the quiet. After a while, she asked, “Do you have a key?”
“No. But the back door’s open.”
Josie took his hand again and said, “Lead on, then.”
She glanced back at the van where Rob watched and waited. Barry brought her around the side of the building, and she sniffed at the air as they passed between the garage and the house.
At the back, the door was shut. Barry pressed down on the handle, and it swung inward. He stepped inside first, and Josie followed, his hand still in hers. The kitchen smelled bad. He hadn’t really noticed before, but now that Josie was with him, in his house, he felt embarrassed and sad.
Josie looked around at the dishes piled in the sink, the stack of dirty clothes on the floor by the washing machine, the rows of empty cans and bottles on the counter.
She squeezed his hand tighter and he saw a glisten in her eyes. He knew she felt sorry for him and it caused hot anger in his heart. Even though she was being kind, it made him feel small and stupid, like a baby. He let go of her fingers, shoved his hands down into his pockets.
“Mr. Whittle?” she called.
No one answered. She tried again.
“I don’t think he’s here,” Barry said. “He went out last night. He left that.”
Barry pointed to the piece of paper on the table.
Josie approached it, leaned down so she could read the words. He watched her lips move, his anger forgotten.
“Oh Christ,” she said, then she covered her mouth with her hand. She looked to the back door, still open, then at Barry. “Stay here,” she said.
Josie rushed out through the door, into the back garden. Barry went after her, out onto the step. She glanced back at him, told him to stay there.
He didn’t. He walked along the back of the house, keeping her in view. She opened the side door of the garage and stumbled back, her hands over her nose and mouth. Flies, black and fat, tumbled through the air around her.
Josie looked back at him once more. “Stay there,” she said. “Don’t come any closer.”
She stepped into the dark.
Now Barry stopped. He watched the dim throat of the doorway, listening hard.
Josie screamed. She lurched out into the light and fell to her knees. Vomit spilled from her mouth and nose.