“It’ll say it on that thing that scrolls along the bottom, won’t it, Brian? The tickle?”
Dad had taken time-out from decorating to watch the news.
“It’s called a ticker, Sheila. A ticker. Not a tickle.”
Mum had called us both into the living room saying that Penny had texted and there was some kind of update about Teddy on the news. I paced around the carpet trying to relax. My knuckles were cracked and bleeding from my constant washing; the blood had freaked me out, so I cleaned them over and over, but then they just bled even more. Around and around I spun, back on my stupid wheel.
“Stop going back and forth, Matthew. You’re making me dizzy.”
We all stared at the TV. Dad kept tutting, saying would it just hurry up.
“Penny’s always sticking her big nose in where it’s not wanted. Are you sure she’s right?”
Mum fiddled with her phone to try and find the text again.
“Look—it’s on!” I said. Mum dropped the phone and grabbed the remote control, turning the volume up even though it was only being reported on the ticker for now. Dad read the scrolling white words out loud.
“Breaking News. Police investigate a suspected sighting of the missing toddler, Teddy Dawson, boarding a ferry with a man and woman in Harwich yesterday. Police in Holland are working alongside the British forces.”
As the ticker ended, Dad turned back to the conservatory to carry on painting.
“See?” he said. “I told you they’d find him. He’ll be all over the CCTV cameras—he’ll be home before long, I bet.”
Mum turned the TV off and went into the kitchen. I followed, stopping when I reached the tiled floor.
“That would be good, wouldn’t it? Maybe we could have a little party or something? I’ll see what Penny says. She’d love to organize that.”
Mum had just begun to load the dishwasher when the doorbell rang.
“Answer that for me, Matthew?”
I went to the hall and recognized the outline of the figure behind the frosted glass door. She was dressed in black with pink flip-flops. I ignored the second bell and ran upstairs.
“Matthew? Why didn’t you answer it?” shouted Mum as she opened the front door.
I paced around my room, wondering if I should run to the bathroom and lock myself in, when my door was pushed open. I stood by my window with my arms folded.
“Hi, Matthew.”
Her eyes looked puffy with dark rings underneath and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. In her arms she was carrying a large brown photograph album, and I had an awful feeling it was something for me.
“I think we need to talk. I know you think I’m some kind of lunatic after the graveyard but I’m not, okay? There’s all that crazy stuff going on out there with Teddy missing, and I think we could be good friends if you just saw me for the person I am, not the person you think I am.”
Her cheeks flushed pink. The little speech had clearly been rehearsed, and as she waited for me to say something her dark eyes flittered around my room, taking everything in. A deep, barely audible growl rumbled from the corner, and I glanced up at the Wallpaper Lion and glared at him.
Something caught her eye outside and she stepped toward the window.
“Is Mr. Charles watering his yard?”
I looked out and saw the old man was slowly saturating his flower bed using his hose.
“Why would you bother doing something like that when your grandson is missing?” said Melody.
We watched him move along the garden, one footstep at a time, and she rested her head against the side of the wall. I flinched.
“Melody, I think you should go now. I’ve got a few things I need to do. Lots of things, actually. And I really don’t like people being in my room, you know? After what I told you about?”
She continued to stare at Mr. Charles.
“Did you know that if you spray a hose in a certain direction and the sun is in the right place you can see a rainbow?”
I watched as the sun glinted on the sparkling spray, but I couldn’t spot any colors.
“Dad showed me once when he still lived with us. He said, ‘If you look carefully enough you can see beautiful things in almost anything.’ I don’t think that’s true though, do you?”
She turned to face me. The sores on my hands were throbbing so much I would have to ask Mum for a painkiller before long.
“Melody, I really need you to go. Please?”
But she became all businesslike and shook her head.
“No. I’m not going. This won’t take long and it’s really important.”
She kicked her flip-flops off and sat cross-legged on my duvet. As simple as that. I felt physically sick.
“D-didn’t you hear me? I asked you to go. And don’t you think you should have some socks on if you’ve got verrucas?”
I paced to the window, to the door, to the window, and back to the door. Her head went from side to side as if she were watching a tennis match.
“I’ll be quick,” she said, putting the album on her lap and taking a deep breath. “I thought if I explained why I took the cards from the graveyard, then you’d understand.”
Tucking a stray hair behind one ear, she watched me with dark eyes. I forced myself to stop by my dresser and repeated a phrase in my head while she spoke.
Everything can be cleaned … Everything can be cleaned … Everything can be cleaned …
“The church throws away all the cards and gifts that have been left on the graves after they’ve been there for a certain amount of days. The relatives know about it, it’s all okay with them; they don’t expect to get any of it back. I just take what’s lying around before it ends up in the trash.”
I frowned.
“That’s great. Nice to know. Right, now you can go, okay?”
She rested her chin on the album that she held to her chest and completely ignored me.
“As you know, before Dad left I used to sneak out and go to the graveyard to get away from all the shouting. One day I saw a memorial card on the ground with a muddy footprint across it. I picked it up and it said, ‘My dearest Mary, I am hollow without you. Love, Jack.’ I took the card home, dried it off on the radiator, and kept it. That card was so heartbreaking and it was being walked over like a piece of rubbish. It just didn’t seem right. That was my first one, and I’ve been collecting them ever since. Now I can’t bear to think that they’re going to be thrown out, so I pick up what I can and keep them safe.”
She took a deep breath and her cheeks flushed pink again as she held the album out to me.
“Just take a look, okay?”
The brown book dangled between us and I tucked my hands behind my back.
“Uh, can you open it for me?” I asked.
Melody waited for a second, then shrugged and put it down on my bed, turning the front cover over. I took a step closer. The folder was like a ring binder with sheets of plastic inlays—little pockets of all different sizes designed to hold cards. Postcards, antique cigarette cards, that kind of thing. But on these cards there were doves, flowers, crosses. I studied the first page.
Rest In Peace, Uncle Cyril. We will miss you always. Love, Sarah & John.
Sleep tight my darling. Christine x
Miss you forever my sweet pea. Your Frank.
Dad—my wonderful hero. Until we meet again. Your son, Tommy x
There was even some in a child’s handwriting:
Granddad, you made us laugh when you snored so loud! We hope it’s nice in heaven. Love, Katie, Becky, and Joshua
Melody was watching my face, trying to gauge my reaction as she slowly turned the pages. I had a lump in my throat and didn’t know what to say. Then I spotted some handwriting I recognized.
“Stop there a second,” I said.
In the top corner of a page there was a card with a little blue teddy bear sitting beside a white cross. Underneath, in blue ink, it read:
Our baby boy Callum. We never had the chance to see you grow, but we love you each and every day. Mummy, Daddy, and Matty xxx
Tears stung my eyes. I knew Mum visited his grave every now and then, but I didn’t realize she’d left messages for him.
“Where did you get this one?” I said, pointing at the card.
“By the angel. The big, white angel near the front of the church. Why?”
“No reason.”
It was me, it was all my fault he died was dancing around on my tongue, but I quickly swallowed it away. She obviously had no idea he was my brother, and there was no sign of the note I’d left saying sorry. It had probably been thrown away by the church, or lost. I relaxed a tiny bit as Melody picked up the book and hugged it again.
“So. What do you think?”
I sighed.
“Well, it’s a bit weird, to be honest.”
She frowned and looked down at my hands before standing up.
“Oh that reminds me. You still owe me the money for those gloves.”
We glared at each other for a moment and then she smiled at me, knowing she’d made a point.
“I guess there’s no harm if they were being thrown away anyway,” I said. “And it must have been hard, you know … with your dad leaving and everything.”
She nodded and bit her top lip.
“Look. Let’s just forget it, okay?” I said. “I’m not saying I agree with it, but if it’s not upsetting anyone, then it doesn’t matter what I think.”
She grinned.
“Good. We’re wasting time arguing anyway. Did you hear about the sighting?”
“Yes. It doesn’t mean it was definitely him though.”
Melody nodded. “My thought too. We need to carry on investigating, Matty. Have you found anything out yet?”
I told her about seeing Old Nina trying to get the white fabric out of her tree after I’d left the graveyard.
“Whatever it was, she seemed very eager to get to it.”
Melody frowned.
“And what’s with the lamp she had in her window?” she said. “It’s not on anymore! Did you see? Do you think it means something?”
I shrugged, pleased that she’d noticed it had been turned off as well.
“I don’t know, I’ve been wondering about that myself. Is it just a coincidence that it’s been off since Teddy went missing?”
“Right,” she said, standing up and ready for action. “I’ll go and see if I can find out what’s in her tree, and you find out about the lamp. Your parents have lived here longer than my mum. Maybe they know something?”
I nodded and she smiled at me.
“You’re all right, Matthew Corbin. A bit of a stress-head maybe, but I think we’re going to make a great team!”
And with that she blew me a kiss and ran out the door.