Young Writers Society

Hey =] Thanks so much to those who have read and reviewed so far! This chapter is where it starts to get interesting (hopefully) so I'd really appreciate the help to make it better =] I Hope you enjoy it!

It was 10:30pm when things finally began to quieten down. I had been trying unsuccessfully for at least an hour to get to sleep as I had school the next day and didn’t want to be tired, but with the T.V blaring and my Mum and Paul talking extremely loudly as usual, it was near impossible. Now at last, things seemed to be a lot quieter.

Well, that was until Sooty decided to jump down from my window sill, causing a cascade of stuff to fall off with him. Typical. It was probably his big bum that did it. Honestly, he must be the strangest shaped cat that I have ever seen. He has a tiny head that doesn’t seem to have grown since he was a kitten, and a huge backside that looks like it should belong on a small dog. It’s quite a sight. I swear Mum feeds him too much, but her excuse is that ‘he looks hungry.’ Come on. He’s not going to walk into the kitchen and look absolutely stuffed. Why would anybody feed him then? Not that I fall for his, ‘I haven’t been fed in years,’ face and to make it worse, the bloody thing insists on sleeping on my bed. It’s not unusual to wake up with his furry behind inches from my face. He’s such a nuisance - almost as much as Pansy is - but that night, he actually turned out to be a help. If it wasn’t for Sooty knocking things over, then I wouldn’t have witnessed what happened next.

When I had heard the usual sound of Paul’s rusty transit van starting, I realised that it must have been nearer 11:00pm, as that’s when he leaves for work. I know that Mum and Paul hate to admit it, but the florists isn’t doing that well. Well, it can’t be if Paul has to have a second job. The problem with having a florists in a small village is that hardly anyone outside the village knows it’s even there. So business is strictly dictated by the locals.

Anyway, when the noise of the engine had gotten fainter, I pulled back the cover from my bed and turned on the bed side lamp. I then crossed the short distance to the window where I began picking up all of the various things that Sooty had kindly sent flying everywhere. It was as I reached to pick up a photo frame that heard the high pitched squeaking of the Ship Inn’s gate. Standing back up straight, I cast my gaze a little way down the road, expecting to see the delivery van backing into the pub’s courtyard, but instead my eyes were met with a very different sight.

I had looked just in time to see the back end of Paul’s transit disappearing between the pub gates. Strange. I decided to think nothing of it and carried on picking up the bits and pieces off of the floor, when I heard talking several moments later. As I stood up and looked out of the window again, I saw Paul, Ralph the landlord and yes. You’ve guessed it. Mr. Peter’s, the owner of the gift shop next to the old tea room. Now that couldn’t just be a coincidence. Could it? Why would they be meeting outside the pub at 11:00 at night?

Unfortunately, I would have to wait until tomorrow evening to figure that one out as I heard a faint knocking on my door and had to quickly dive into my bed before my Mum came into my room. I heard her pad across the carpet and held my breath as I felt her reach my side. Even with my head buried beneath the duvet, I could still smell the pollen that had brushed off onto her clothes whilst at work. I wrinkled my nose. Please don’t sneeze. Thankfully though, she didn’t hang around for long. Turning off the bed side lamp, she whispered something about falling asleep reading, before she finally left my room. When I heard her start to descend the stairs, I jumped back up, but it was too late. There was no sign of any of them. All three men had disappeared into the night.

I watched Paul’s movements over the next few nights and every evening was the same. He would drive off down the road, but instead of continuing down the high street, he would take the detour into the awaiting open gates of the Ship Inn. Within minutes, the three men would be standing together on the corner, but every night my spying was cut short by my Mum entering the room to check I was asleep. It wasn’t even like she really needed to check on me. I was fifteen after all.

It wasn’t until Thursday that I got a proper look at what he was up to. By this time, Sooty was no longer sleeping on my bed. I guessed that he’d had enough of me disturbing his sleep by diving into bed unexpectedly, and had taken refuge somewhere else.

The usual routine was followed to the letter, except this time when Mr. Peter’s appeared, he was carrying what looked like a sack.

Reaching the other two men, he pulled out what looked like a torch and some scraps of papers. Instructions maybe?

After about five minutes had passed, they looked like they were about to make a move somewhere, when all of a sudden my bedroom light switched on. All three men looked up at where I was standing, their eyes wide. Oh no! Automatically, I wrenched the curtains shut and I felt my heart beat quicken. Panicking in case they had seen me, I spun around to see Pansy standing in my doorway with a rather disgruntled looking Sooty hitched under her arm.

“Pansy you idiot,” I whispered, teeth clenched in annoyance. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Returning the stupid cat to your room,” she scowled, trying her best to throw Sooty onto my bed as he hissed at her in irritation.

“But why’d you have to turn the light on?” I asked, running over to my doorway to turn the light out.

“Because otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to see, stupid,” Pansy replied angrily, whilst turning and stomping out of my room.

I quickly shut the door and ran back over to the window sill, but they were gone.

“So close,” I whispered to myself, just before my Mum had entered the room with a smug looking Pansy standing behind her.

I decided to keep quiet about the Paul incident as I didn’t want to risk mentioning it in case he had seen me. The last thing I wanted was for him to know that I was onto him.

School was the definition of awkward the next day. It didn’t help that I wasn’t in the best of moods, probably due to my lack of sleep and the fact that Paul had given me the evil eye all the way through breakfast. He’d stare at me from over the top of the newspaper, so that he could pretend to be reading when my Mum looked towards him. He’d been acting shifty around me since I had gotten up. Purposely leaving the kitchen while I poured my cereal and only rejoining the room once Mum and pansy were downstairs. I wonder if he’s scared to be alone with me in case I ask him about his late night exploits. He knows I wouldn’t bring it up with Mum present. The coward. He can’t avoid me forever.

It was Roxy’s first day in this week as she had been ‘ill’ since Monday, although I knew perfectly well that it was because her and Blake had had another argument. You don’t actually need to ask her to get that impression. See. How long did the peace last? One day. That’s all. I’ve told her that it’s not going to work, but she still keeps on being delusional thinking that it can.

Blake was a class A jerk. He has been hassling me since Monday to tell him why she’s not in. I kept reminding him that I’m not on speaking terms with her, but he wouldn’t take it for an answer. How thick can he be? He wasn’t actually worried about her though. He was just annoyed that she wasn’t in to dangle off his arm. That’s all she was to him. An accessory. But she can’t see it - More like she doesn’t want to.

When I had walked into the classroom that morning, Roxy had been sitting on her own. I’d attempted a smile at her, but she had given me an evil stare and had pushed her books into the middle of the table and put her bag on the chair next to her. Now who’s being immature?

The only other seat left was next to Elliot Roberts. A small framed emo, who always looked like he was in another world. Okay. I lie. There was another seat, but that was next to Miranda. Miranda the panda people call her as she always has purple bags under her eyes and looks as if she’s been deprived of sleep for years. Basically that’s what I’ll look like if I carry on spying on Paul. On top of that she always looks extremely pale as if she’s about to be sick at any given moment. I’d rather sit next to an emo boy from planet Zog, than risk being thrown up over any day.

I’ve only talked to Elliot once, even though we’re next door neighbours. It had been on the day that I had moved in. He’d been creeping round his front garden with a magnifying glass, looking for bugs. He had only realised that I was there when I’d tripped up our garden step and emptied a box of books over his garden wall, bringing an abrupt end to the bug that he’d been inspecting. I had said sorry about twenty times in quick succession, before he had starting picking up some of the books and handing them to me. ‘Don’t worry,’ was all that he’d said, giving me the last of the books and disappearing inside his house, mumbling as he went.

Funnily enough, it was me unceremoniously dumping my books onto the table that woke him up from his day dream.

“Is it alright if I sit here?” I asked, although I was intending on sitting down even if he said no.

“Yep,” he replied, in such a manner that it wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t know what he was agreeing to. His brown eyes gazed over me lazily.

“Thanks,” I said, dropping my bag to the floor and sitting down in the chair next to him.

He didn’t even look up until I began tapping my pen on the table several minutes later.

“Lily isn’t it?” he asked, yawning. His shaggy, coffee hair fell into his eyes and he flicked his head to clear his sight.

“Yeah,” I replied, putting my pen down, “and you’re Elliot.”

“Well, I prefer my middle name, but Elliot will do I suppose.”

“Okay,” I said in the tone of voice that Elliot had first spoken to me in at the start of the lesson. I allowed my gaze to wander over to where Roxy was sitting on her own. As soon as she noticed me looking at her, she turned away moodily and began doodling on the paper in front of her. I found myself doodling idly too throughout the lesson as History wasn’t exactly what I’d call attention grabbing. What if Paul did see me? That would explain the shifty behaviour this morning…

When the bell rang for lunch, I was out of the class faster than you could say ‘food.’ Honestly, after listening to Elliot rambling on about the best way to solve a mystery, I would have given anything for a good pair of ear plugs. He was quiet in the beginning, barely managing to ask to borrow a pen. But once he got going, gosh, I was in for the long run. I think I made the mistake of pretending to be interested.

Note to self - When Elliot starts talking, take a trip to planet Zog.

Thanks for reading!