Gone Read Free

were pebble-dashed in some fit of insanity by the builders. At least it was quiet now. When he’d been here back in the day, back when he’d been watching Emma, all the scruffy kids were out causing trouble, making the place unbearable. Asking him for tabs or to go to the offy for them. They did his head in. These days they all stayed inside.
    He remembered standing in the exact same place all those years ago, waiting for her to come out. Seeing her looking at him from the window upstairs, knowing he was watching her. He’d enjoyed the way it made him feel.
    He’d questioned coming back today. But he needed to know if her dad would recognise him. If he’d be able to start pointing fingers when the cops came round. They’d never actually met. But he’d stood outside so many times that it was possible her dad had seen his face.
    Lucas stared at the house. He wondered if it would be the same inside. If Emma’s room would be the same. Perfectly preserved. He’d only been in a couple of times. Once when her dad was out. Once when they were both out. He’d gone into her room. Lay down on her bed. Done what any man would do in the bed of a teenage girl. He’d always wondered how she’d felt when she found it.
    The old woman with the dog finally shuffled her way past him and he crossed the street. More than needing to know if the old man recognised him, he needed to go inside, needed to see her things.
    He straightened his tie and thought about taking it off. Emma’s dad wouldn’t expect one of his daughter’s friends to be that respectable, would he? She was a junkie, a loser. But it was too late now. He’d already knocked. He tapped his feet as he waited, and watched as a figure emerged from somewhere in the gloom of the house and approached the door, disfigured by the glass. Lucas took a breath and put on his game face as the door opened.
    An old man stood hunched in the doorway, dressed in brown polyester trousers and a beige cardigan. Lucas didn’t know what he’d been expecting but it wasn’t this. Not a red-faced pensioner with last week’s tea crusted onto his shirt.
    Ray Thorley looked at Lucas expectantly. Maybe he thought he was police.
    ‘Mr Thorley?’
    ‘Yes. Is it about my Emma? Is there news?’ he said.
    Lucas smiled at the old man and stepped forward. ‘May I come in?’
    Ray stepped back and ushered Lucas in. ‘Have you heard something?’ he said as he closed the door.
    Lucas walked through into the living room and took in all the pictures of the girl he used to fuck. ‘May I sit down?’ Lucas asked as he took a seat. Ray continued to stand, waiting for him to speak. ‘Mr Thorley, I just wanted to offer my condolences—’
    Ray slumped down into his chair and made a noise as if the life were slipping out of him. ‘So it is her,’ he said.
    A heat rushed through Lucas’s body. The police weren’t sure it was Emma. Was that a good thing? The news hadn’t confirmed things but he’d assumed the police were just holding back. Keeping their cards close to their chest. But maybe they really didn’t know. Maybe they wouldn’t be knocking on his door after all.
    Lucas looked at Ray Thorley. He was staring, waiting for a response. ‘I think you misunderstand. I just came to offer my condolences. I was a friend of Emma’s. A long time ago. When I heard I was so upset.’
    Ray pointed at Lucas with a shaky hand. ‘You’re not a policeman?’
    ‘No,’ Lucas said. ‘You don’t remember me?’
    ‘I’m sorry, son, I don’t,’ Ray said, searching Lucas’s face.
    Lucas held back his grin. ‘I was friends with Emma. Knew her from school.’
    ‘Oh,’ Ray said. ‘Of course.’
    Lucas sat forward. ‘I’m very sorry, Mr Thorley.’ He stood. ‘Would you mind if I used your toilet?’
    Ray nodded and pointed in the vague direction of the stairs. Lucas closed the living room door behind him and climbed the stairs. The sign on the door of the bedroom caught his eye.
    EMMA’S ROOM.