The soft drink was refreshing, and as she gulped it, Beck let the heavy door drift on its hinges until it shut with a sucking away of air.

As the light disappeared, a paper slid off the freezer door in front of her feet. Before the night absorbed it, she saw the words “Gold Coast” in big yellow letters, and realised the high-rise hotel in the bright picture was the place where Tony and Leanne were honeymooning.

Seventeen 2005

SEVENTEEN
2005

James looked back along Kippen’s main street to check his father wasn’t following, then disappeared up the driveway to Tony’s front door. There was still time. If he hadn’t found the keys to Tony’s yacht in ten minutes, he’d get on the road to Wishaw airport.

But the key to the front door didn’t fit. Looking closer, he saw the lock was brand new.

James knew the fence would support him, but he was surprised at its height. In the panic of his escape the night before, he’d scaled it without even thinking.

He lifted himself over into the field and landed in tufts of high grass, then pushed through them along the fence. Getting back across made a bit of noise, so once he was over, James cast an eye around the caravan park, but this whole end of town was silent.

Grandma’s old wrought-iron plant stand was there, heaving with dead flowers by the sliding door, which was locked fast. The only other option that presented itself was the small bathroom window, high in the wall.

After two shoves James had broken the plastic lock worn by decades of sun. He positioned one foot on the hot water system and managed to squeeze himself halfway through the window, the frame cutting him across the belly. Then he dragged himself inside by grabbing the toilet cistern.

Grass stains and smears of dirt traced their way down the wall, so he took his shoes off and left them on the vinyl kitchen floor. The carpet was damp and there was a heavy scent of cleaning fluids. None of his footprints from the night prior were evident.

He found a Kippen Bowling Club keyring hanging by the microwave. One of the two keys was probably for a car, although James didn’t know what a typical boat key looked like. He compared the last one with the key still in his pocket. One of them was an exact match with the now redundant key to this flat. Home and car. No boat.

James pocketed them and starting pulling at drawers in the kitchenette. Nothing about the Home Free in there. He opened the door to the small front bedroom, stripped of its sheets, revealing the slight body-sized dent in the single mattress where Tony must have curled up each night.

Fuck, Tony. I’m sorry.