Voices in Stone - Emily Diamand Page 0,31
got focused on that, counting down the days actually, I was looking forward to it so much.
He picked me up after breakfast.
“Look after him, won’t you?” Mum said.
“I always do,” he answered, which got him one of Mum’s sarcastic, folded-arms looks. But she let me go with him.
We got into his camper van, and he took a left out of our road, which isn’t the way to his house.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
Dad smiled. “It’s an adventure.”
I got my hopes up then, even though I should’ve known better.
“Is it the dry ski slope?” I asked. Dad shook his head. “Go-karting?” Another shake. I tried to think of things we’d never done, special things. I mean, if you tell someone they’re going on an adventure, especially after they’ve nearly been in hospital twice, you’d think it’d be something good. “One of those places where you climb through trees on ropes?”
Dad snorted. “Can you imagine your mum’s face?” He looked at me, eyes narrowed a bit. “How are you feeling, by the way?”
I shrugged. “Fine. So what is it then?” By now I was getting my hopes under control. This was Dad, after all.
“How about a walk?”
“That’s it? A walk doesn’t count as an adventure!”
Dad squinted at the road, or maybe he was frowning. “It could be one. Like a spy story.”
“How could a walk be that?”
“Well, I was thinking of heading up near to the mining site, so we can see what they’re really up to…”
“No!” I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe him! “It made me really ill, Dad. I don’t want to go back there.”
Dad shook his head. “No, of course, and I don’t want to take you anywhere unsafe, but I want to find out what they’re hiding. We won’t get close, okay? Give ourselves a safe perimeter distance, say half a kilometre. I’ve got some portable EM field monitors and…”
“I don’t want to!”
“Look, I posted what happened to your class and the Network went wild about it. They’re pestering for more data. Stu’s cross-checking into the Database…”
I groaned. If Dad had got Stu and the Network involved I had no hope. The Network’s like this club for UFO and conspiracy freaks, and Stu is chief-freak.
“Cally thinks it’s all about ley lines, of course,” said Dad chuckling.
“Cally?” I asked, and there was a look on his face, one I knew from all the times we’ve ‘bumped into’ one of his girlfriends on my visiting days. “Is she coming?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
I pulled back in my seat, folding my arms tight. “Can you turn the van around? I want to go home.”
“I’m not taking you home!” said Dad. “I’ve hardly seen you for a month.”
“You’ve hardly seen me for two months actually, but you still invited your girlfriend along!” I was so angry I was shouting. “I nearly died in the summer, but all you care about is Cally! I want to go home, because if you’ve invited her I might as well not be there.”
I expected him to go mental and for us to get into a full-on shouting match, but he didn’t, he just pulled the camper van to the side of the road and stopped. There was only the sound of the indicator and the other cars rushing by.
“Is that really what you think of me?” he asked.
“Yes!”
Dad turned to stare at the road. He sat there for a minute, then twisted back to look at me.
“Maybe I haven’t always been perfect, Gray.” He put his hand out, touched my arm. “But what happened out in that field this summer… sitting with you in Accident and Emergency…” His voice went all croaky. “You’re my son, Gray, that’s what I really care about.”
“Then why have you been fighting with Mum for months?” I said. “Why couldn’t you sort it out?”
“It hasn’t been months,” said Dad. “It’s only been six weeks or so.”
“Nine weeks.” I thought I might cry, like some little kid. “This is the first Saturday we’ve had together since the beginning of August.”
Dad sat still as a stone for a minute, then he leaned across and put his arms around me. Gave me a hug, if you can believe it.
“I’m sorry, Gray,” he whispered. “I should have thought.”
And Dad never apologises about anything.
“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he said, letting go of me. “But the thing is…”
“I know,” I sighed. “Cally’s different. Cally’s the one.”
Dad laughed. “Actually, I was going to say it’s already arranged, and they’ve probably left