My phone burst into life somewhere in the depths of my bag and I shrieked with fright. Cursing myself for not having put it on silent, I fumbled around until I found it. With one last glance at the door of number twelve to confirm it was still closed, I stepped away from the house and onto the pavement to answer my phone. It was an unknown number.
“Hello, Charlie Diamond speaking.”
“Hi Mum it's me, Grace.”
“Oh hiya Grace love. You okay?” I glanced at the door again but if anyone was home, it seemed they weren't accepting visitors.
“Yeah. Just wondering if you know where my kit is?”
“Your PE kit?”
“Yeah.”
“Not a clue. Do you still have a PE kit? I thought you stopped all that when you finished year eleven?”
She didn't say anything and I started to get suspicious. “What's going on? You sure you're okay?”
“There’s a thing at school, try-outs, for the Olympic cycling team.”
“Sounds like fun.” If you like that kind of thing. Before today, Grace hadn’t shown the slightest bit of interest in cycling. We’d bought her a bike, taught her to ride it, just like all responsible parents up and down the land before us, but that was when she was about ten.
“But I can’t do it without my kit.”
“When do you need it? You remember I’m in Devon, right?”
“This afternoon. Yeah.” She didn’t say any more so I just waited. Two could play at this game. She probably wanted me to give her my credit card number so she could buy something online but I wasn’t falling for that one again. I had to believe there was a reasonable alternative and that’s when I had an idea.
“Why don’t you ask one of the teachers if you can borrow kit? Explain you haven’t got any.”
“Ewwww! No chance! Have you seen the scanks that wear that kit? Stop it before I vomit!” I heard retching sounds down the phone.
“Don’t be so overdramatic. It gets washed after someone uses it.”
“Doubt it.”
“Well I’m about two hundred miles away Grace. I couldn’t make it back to you in time even if I wanted to so you’re going to have to figure this out for yourself.”
“Do you think Dad would get me kit?”
“I’m not dragging your father out of work to take you shopping for kit because you’ve decided on a whim that you want to take up cycling!” Besides which, ringing Jonathan would mean having to tell him I was leaving the girls alone overnight. We’d promised that was to remain our little secret.
“So now what?”
“Now you have to decide exactly how important this cycling thing is to you. If it’s that important, you’ll borrow kit. If not, you won’t. Simple really.”
“But …”
“No buts Grace. There’s nothing else I can say on the matter. Make a decision and if you decide to do it, good luck. Let me know how you get on. I have to go now though, got work to do.”
Without waiting for her to reply I pressed the button to end the call, put my phone on silent and hid it back at the bottom of my bag.
Family drama over, I walked towards Roland’s front door but before I could knock it was opened by an elderly man with a shock of bright white hair.
I smiled. “Roland?” He nodded. “Charlie Diamond,” I said. “Did Muriel mention that I might call round?”
“No but you might as well come in. I’ll lose all the heat if we standing here yapping with the door open.”
Roland’s house was like a mirror image of Muriel’s but instead of leading us into what would have been his front room, I followed him all the way back to the kitchen. In the corner was a small television with a comfy chair in front of a makeshift table made out of overturned apple boxes on top of which stood a small tea-cup with a single daisy in it. Roland pointed to the chair.
“Sit down. I’ll put brew on.”
My insides groaned. I knew that before I could drink any more tea I really needed to visit the little girl’s room. I hated using other people’s toilets but was feeling fairly desperate.
“Sorry to be a nuisance but do you think I could use your bathroom? It was a long journey down and, well you know how it is.”
“Don’t like the public lavs eh girl? Can’t say I blame you. Up the stairs, first door on the right. Just mind the flush, it’s a bit of a bugger.”
When I walked back down the stairs after using the toilet I heard a voice calling me from one of the other rooms off the hall.
“In here. Thought it’d be more comfy.”
I followed his voice into the lounge and sat on the sofa opposite him. The air smelt slightly musty and I assumed he only came in here when he had visitors. I pulled a notebook out of my bag and took the lid off my pen.
“Muriel told me you saw Ryan from next door to her get beaten up last week?”
“Ai. The two of them were shouting, throwing punches about, making a right racket. I’m amazed she didn’t hear it.”
“Did you see the other one? Get a look at his face.”
“Yeah, he was older. Scruffy looking.”
“Eye colour? Hair?”
“Blue probably. Hair was sort of brown and sticky up.”
“Probably?”
“He was far away.”
“Would you recognise him again if you saw him?”
“I should think so. Never forget a face.”
“But until last week, you’d not seen him before?” I pulled Toby’s photo out of my folder and handed it to him. “Could this be him?”
He looked at the photo and his eyes widened. “I know this man.”
“You do?”
“He was hanging round ‘ere a few weeks back. Ask Muriel, she’ll know who I mean. He was staying with Ryan.”
“But this wasn’t the man you saw last week?”
“No.” He shook his head firmly.
“Are you sure? Imagine the man in the photo looking scruffier. Could it have been him?”
“Well his hair’s the same colour but this man were taller. Bigger build.”
Satisfied the old man was telling the truth I thanked him for his time, gave him my card in case he thought of anything else, and went back in the direction of Muriel’s house. I needed to find Ryan and ask him why he’d told Muriel that Toby had beaten him up. It was obvious now that he’s lied and I wanted to know why.