glared at me from the walls, as if begging for my help. I don’t know ! I glared back.
Help me, Dad! I whispered in my head. What were you trying to say when you drew these ?
I felt hopeless and pathetic. In frustration I began pulling off the wallpaper I’d just drawn on, tearing the giant angel down, ripping off his wings, tearing down the monkey and the Sphinx …
I fell to my knees and looked up at the mess I’d made. The image of the waiter was all that remained on the wall. He stared down at me, between half torn-off sheets of paper, and held out his tray. He offered me the jack and the ace of hearts. 21. 21! His two cards made a perfect 21 combination. A blackjack!
28 JANUARY
338 days to go …
Why did the waiter have the winning combination on his tray? I needed help from Boges.
Being alone for so long in that decrepit old house was sending me crazy. The days were all blurring into each other. The drawings hadn’t revealed anything else and I was no closer to finding out who had attacked my family and why. It had been too dangerous for Boges to meet with me and so he was trying to keep away until the heat died down. Time was ticking, and I was getting nowhere.
Back at the house I’d heard rats scampering about upstairs and thought I could smell something dead up there. The hot weather was making it worse.
I had to get out, so I’d taken the risk of sneaking out again in daylight.
I ordered something to eat in a small sandwich shop in a factory area. I sat at the table staring at the television, enjoying the first decent meal I’d had for a long time. Nobody took any notice of me, until I nearly fell off my stool. I pretended it was because I had almost dropped my bag but it was because my mother’s face had suddenly filled the screen of the small TV set that sat on the shelf behind the counter.
‘Please call me again, Cal,’ she pleaded. ‘We can sort this out. You must be ill. I don’t blame you, and your uncle doesn’t blame you either. We beg you to come home and help sort this out. There are good doctors who can help you deal with this.’ The camera panned back and there was Uncle Rafe, head bandaged, and arm in a sling, standing beside my mother as she spoke, a steadying hand on her shoulder.
I was speechless.
Mum , I wanted to say, why don’t you believe me? What’s wrong with you ? Surely she knew her own son?
My mother spoke again. ‘We understand you’ve been under tremendous pressure lately. Just come home so we can deal with this together.’ She started crying and Rafe put hisarm around her, pulling her close.
I wanted to ring again, but I knew it was pointless.
My face flashed up on the screen again. But this time I didn’t run or duck for cover—I didn’t need to. I didn’t look a thing like the fresh-faced schoolboy on TV anymore. He was history.
29 JANUARY
337 days to go …
My mobile rang. Boges!
‘They’ve stopped watching me. I think I can risk meeting you. What do you need?’
‘More clothes,’ I said, ‘and more food.’
Having such a good friend meant a lot to me, and without his help I didn’t know what I would have done.
Soon all of my friends would be going back to school. I wondered what they thought of all this. Surely they didn’t believe the reports.
They’d all soon be doing those ordinary daily things that had been part of my life for the last ten years, while I was forced to live like a criminal—on the run.
When Boges arrived at the derelict house, he stared at me, pointing to the studs in my lip and eyebrow and the tattoos on my neck and arms. ‘What the hell happened to you?’ he asked.
I touched my piercings and glanced at the tatts. ‘They’re fake,’ I said. ‘I had to make a few changes. I know it’s lame, but it’s a quick fix for now.’
‘You look gross!’
‘And you’ve packed on a lot of weight suddenly!’ I said, noticing how bulky he was looking.
‘Thanks!’ Boges shook his head and laughed.
Help me, Dad! I whispered in my head. What were you trying to say when you drew these ?
I felt hopeless and pathetic. In frustration I began pulling off the wallpaper I’d just drawn on, tearing the giant angel down, ripping off his wings, tearing down the monkey and the Sphinx …
I fell to my knees and looked up at the mess I’d made. The image of the waiter was all that remained on the wall. He stared down at me, between half torn-off sheets of paper, and held out his tray. He offered me the jack and the ace of hearts. 21. 21! His two cards made a perfect 21 combination. A blackjack!
28 JANUARY
338 days to go …
Why did the waiter have the winning combination on his tray? I needed help from Boges.
Being alone for so long in that decrepit old house was sending me crazy. The days were all blurring into each other. The drawings hadn’t revealed anything else and I was no closer to finding out who had attacked my family and why. It had been too dangerous for Boges to meet with me and so he was trying to keep away until the heat died down. Time was ticking, and I was getting nowhere.
Back at the house I’d heard rats scampering about upstairs and thought I could smell something dead up there. The hot weather was making it worse.
I had to get out, so I’d taken the risk of sneaking out again in daylight.
I ordered something to eat in a small sandwich shop in a factory area. I sat at the table staring at the television, enjoying the first decent meal I’d had for a long time. Nobody took any notice of me, until I nearly fell off my stool. I pretended it was because I had almost dropped my bag but it was because my mother’s face had suddenly filled the screen of the small TV set that sat on the shelf behind the counter.
‘Please call me again, Cal,’ she pleaded. ‘We can sort this out. You must be ill. I don’t blame you, and your uncle doesn’t blame you either. We beg you to come home and help sort this out. There are good doctors who can help you deal with this.’ The camera panned back and there was Uncle Rafe, head bandaged, and arm in a sling, standing beside my mother as she spoke, a steadying hand on her shoulder.
I was speechless.
Mum , I wanted to say, why don’t you believe me? What’s wrong with you ? Surely she knew her own son?
My mother spoke again. ‘We understand you’ve been under tremendous pressure lately. Just come home so we can deal with this together.’ She started crying and Rafe put hisarm around her, pulling her close.
I wanted to ring again, but I knew it was pointless.
My face flashed up on the screen again. But this time I didn’t run or duck for cover—I didn’t need to. I didn’t look a thing like the fresh-faced schoolboy on TV anymore. He was history.
29 JANUARY
337 days to go …
My mobile rang. Boges!
‘They’ve stopped watching me. I think I can risk meeting you. What do you need?’
‘More clothes,’ I said, ‘and more food.’
Having such a good friend meant a lot to me, and without his help I didn’t know what I would have done.
Soon all of my friends would be going back to school. I wondered what they thought of all this. Surely they didn’t believe the reports.
They’d all soon be doing those ordinary daily things that had been part of my life for the last ten years, while I was forced to live like a criminal—on the run.
When Boges arrived at the derelict house, he stared at me, pointing to the studs in my lip and eyebrow and the tattoos on my neck and arms. ‘What the hell happened to you?’ he asked.
I touched my piercings and glanced at the tatts. ‘They’re fake,’ I said. ‘I had to make a few changes. I know it’s lame, but it’s a quick fix for now.’
‘You look gross!’
‘And you’ve packed on a lot of weight suddenly!’ I said, noticing how bulky he was looking.
‘Thanks!’ Boges shook his head and laughed.
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