The Goldfish Boy

I didn’t meet his gaze but kept focused on my dinner and shrugged, noncommittal.

“Have you got any paint for my room yet?” I said. Keep it normal. Keep it neutral. Mum spooned a large dollop of mayonnaise onto her plate, tapping the spoon three times.

“You’re going to love it, Matty,” she said, grinning. “Mockingbird’s Breast, it’s called. Cream with a tiny touch of ocher.”

Dad looked at me and we both smiled and raised our eyes.

“Those paint guys are having a laugh! Sitting around drinking tea all day while they come up with a hundred ridiculous names for something that’s basically white.”

He chuckled to himself.

“I figure we could do better than Mockingbird’s Breast, don’t you, Matthew?”

I smiled, took a deep breath, and went for it.

“How about: Dirty Dishwater.”

Dad grinned and his eyes darted to the pool table.

“Good one. I know: Cue Ball Cream.”

I laughed as Mum tutted and pretended to be offended.

“What about … Wait for it … A Hint of Denture.”

Dad put his fork down.

“Excellent! Hold on, hold on … How about Tired Eyeball?”

“I’d love that on my walls, please, Mum …”

We were both laughing so much we couldn’t eat, and Mum had a big smile on her face.

“Come on now, you two, those paints are expensive. You know they’re good quality when they’ve got fancy names like that.”

Dad raised his eyebrows and nodded toward Mum and we both spluttered out laughing again.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” I said, wriggling on my seat. “How about Soiled Diaper!”

It went quiet. Dad sort of chuckled, but I’d ruined it. The whole moment of happiness had been crushed because my imaginary paint color had reminded everyone about Teddy being missing. The kitchen fell into silence. We all picked up our forks and prodded at our food, and then I looked at the empty chair opposite me: the chair where my brother would have been sitting.

“Melissa and Casey are back staying with Mr. Charles. Did you know? I think she realized how much she needs her dad after all.”

I nodded. I had noticed her car was back but was parked farther up the road so there was room for the police to come and go.

“How’s your pasta, darling? Does it need another twenty seconds?”

The Bolognese steamed into my face, and I gave her my best smile as I blew on a forkful.

“It’s fine, Mum. Thanks.”

She smiled back at me.

After a few minutes of silence I thought it might be a good moment to divert the attention away from Teddy and explode my own little news bomb, so I told them that I wasn’t going back to see Dr. Rhodes. Not ever. I just couldn’t do it. There was too much bad stuff going on around me: my baby brother dying, Teddy going missing, hearing about what happened to Old Nina’s son. And she’d make me talk about Callum, I just knew it. That’s what they did, those therapists. They made you talk about stuff in the past that you’d rather forget. She might find out exactly what I did, and I couldn’t cope with that.

I had been wrong about it being a good moment.

“Oh Matthew. Why? You’ve hardly even given it a chance!”

“You don’t understand, Mum. It’s too hard. I can’t do it.”

I pushed the pasta around the warped, brown plastic tray with my fork.

“Hold on a minute, hold on. So, you’re telling me that you’re not going back to see one of the best therapists in the area … because it’s too hard?”

Mum put a hand on Dad’s arm.

“Brian, don’t shout.”

He turned and faced Mum, and small pieces of chicken fell out of his mouth as he spoke.

“But he’s not even started, Sheila! What does he expect? A smiley sticker on a chart or something? Of course it’s hard! If it was easy I’d cure him myself!”

He pushed his chair back and stormed out of the kitchen, through the conservatory, and into the yard. Mum stood up and scraped her food onto Dad’s plate. She’d hardly eaten a thing.

“See what you’ve done now?” she said. “I’ve backed you up on so many things, Matthew, SO many things!”

It looked like dinner was over.

“Buying you those stupid gloves, bringing food to your room like some silly servant, making excuses for you when you didn’t want to go anywhere. The least you can do is get some help. If not for your sake, for us.”

She grabbed my dish of pasta and threw the whole thing into the bin. Keeping her back turned, she leaned on the kitchen counter as if the conversation had exhausted her.

“You’re pulling this family apart, Matthew. We can’t take it anymore.”

She then went out into the yard and joined Dad, who was standing by his runner beans. She wrapped her arms around him, and they stood holding each other.

I had the Wallpaper Lion’s eye in my pocket, but suddenly I felt very, very alone.





The computer clicked and hummed as the little red light blinked. I began to count the flashes, then stopped when I got to ten and looked away. Not because I was worried about getting to the bad number, but because I just didn’t want to count. The little black beetle was back, gnawing away at my insides. Punishing me for what happened to Callum.

The Harrington’s Household Solutions catalog was behind the monitor where I’d pushed it after finding Mum’s angry scrawls over the cleaning products. I’d move it later.

I sat and waited for the computer to get to the home screen, and then I logged into my email.

To: Matthew Corbin

From: Melody Bird

Subject: What Shall We Do Now?

So Old Nina is off the suspect list. What now?

Melody



I didn’t have an answer.

A car drove into the cul-de-sac, and I stretched up to take a look. There were no police around tonight. Penny was just getting out of their blue Fiat on the driveway of number one, which was odd. Gordon usually did all the driving. I sat back. Now that I came to think of it, I hadn’t seen Penny and Gordon together for a while. They were usually inseparable. How long had it been exactly? I got up and went to the landing and grabbed my notebook from my bedside table, flicking through it as I returned to the office. I sat back down and read through some of the entries.

… it looks like they are organizing a search party. Gordon, Sue, and Claudia are all taking part …

… Gordon got in his car at 11:27 a.m. and drove off …

… Penny Sullivan is next door. She’s talking to Mr. Charles and every now and then she pats him on the arm …

… Gordon dropped a large box off at our house. It looks like Mum and Dad have been ordering from Penny’s stupid catalog again …



I looked back further, to the night after Teddy went missing, and I stopped. My heart was pounding in my ears.

… I can’t believe Mum has agreed to let that creepy kid, Casey, stay at our house tonight. I got up at 2:18 a.m. and she was stirring in her sleep. “The old lady’s got him, Goldfish Boy,” she said. Could Old Nina have Teddy?



But Old Nina wasn’t the only old lady in the street.

I reached for the Harrington’s catalog and quickly found the pages covered with pen scratchings. The lines stretched from one side to the other, crazy haphazard scrawls that cut across the descriptions of the products and the photographs. But now, as I looked at it again, it didn’t look so angry. Some of the lines were swirls and loops, some curled around and around, and although it was messy, it certainly wasn’t menacing. And it didn’t look like something my mum would have done. In fact, it didn’t look like anything an adult would have done. It looked like a child’s innocent scribble.

I stood up. The curtains of number one were being drawn and I saw the hall light switch on. My breaths were coming in quick pants and I took a moment to take a slow, deep breath.

To: Melody Bird

From: Matthew Corbin

Subject: Number One

Penny and Gordon have been acting peculiar …



I stopped and deleted the message. This time I wasn’t going to say anything. Not until I was sure.

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