Dance of Ghosts by Kevin Brooks Read Free Book Online Page A

photographs.’ She started looking through a collection of framed photographs positioned neatly on the shelves. All of the pictures were of Anna: Anna when she was a child, Anna when she was six or seven, Anna when she was twelve, thirteen, fourteen. I could hear Helen muttering to herself as she searched through the photos. ‘I think we’ve got some recent ones here … I’m sure Graham framed some and brought them up …’
    I wandered slowly towards her, looking around as I went, still unable to believe my eyes. ‘Did she decorate the room herself?’ I asked.
    ‘Who, Anna? Goodness me, no. Graham would never have allowed that. He does all the DIY in this house. He’s very good with his hands, is Graham.’
    I bet he fucking is
, I thought.
    ‘I thought you said he was working this evening?’ I said casually.
    ‘Oh, yes … well, he thought he was, but there was some kind of mix up with the shifts or something.’
    ‘Right … so what does he actually do, if you don’t mind me asking?’
    ‘He used to work for the Inland Revenue, but he was made redundant a few years ago. He has a security position now.’
    ‘Security?’
    ‘Yes, he works mostly in the big shopping precinct in town.’
    I nodded. It wasn’t hard to imagine Graham Gerrish patrolling the shopping mall, proudly wearing his security guard uniform … bullying children, ordering kids to get off their skateboards, telling people to put out their cigarettes …
    ‘Is that Anna’s laptop over there?’ I asked Mrs Gerrish.
    ‘No … that’s Graham’s. He keeps it in here because apparently it’s the only place in the house where he can get a decent Internet connection.’
    ‘Really?’ I gazed round the room, looking for a router, but I couldn’t see one anywhere. ‘I would have thought with a wi-fi connection he’d have access all over the house.’
    ‘I’m sorry … I don’t know anything about computers … ah, here we are.’ She turned from the shelves with a framed picture in her hand. ‘I think this should do the job.’ She passed me the picture with a satisfied smile. ‘It was taken the year before last when Anna was on holiday.’
    The photograph was mounted in a cheap white plastic frame. It showed Anna sitting on a wooden bench against an old stone wall, dressed in cut-off jeans and a bikini top. She was smiling dopily, and her eyes looked like tiny blackmarbles. There were grubby thumb marks around the edge of the frame.
    ‘Very nice,’ I said. ‘Was this a holiday with friends? Work colleagues?’
    Helen shook her head. ‘Anna didn’t say.’
    ‘Do you know where she went?’
    ‘I think it was Ibiza … or maybe Greece. Somewhere like that. Is it important? I could probably find out –’
    ‘No, don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter. Is it OK if I keep the picture for a while?’
    ‘Yes, of course.’
    ‘Thanks. Well, I’d better get going now, if that’s all right.’
    As Helen led me out and shut the door, I couldn’t help feeling that I’d left part of myself behind in that strangely chilling room. I could sense the darkness, the silence. The dull black shine of the toy animals’ eyes. I could feel the air, empty and still. And although it was too dark to see anything, I could still see those pictures of Anna. Her face, her eyes, her years, her life …
    And, just for a moment, I thought I could hear her crying.
    In the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, I surprised myself by turning to Helen and saying, ‘You’re more than welcome to come with me to Anna’s flat … if you’d like to, that is.’
    She hesitated for a moment, glancing instinctively at the door to the front room, as if she couldn’t make any decision without asking her husband first. ‘Well, yes …’ she said, ‘I think I
would
like to … I haven’t been there since Anna disappeared. I’ll just have to check with Graham –’
    ‘Why don’t you just go and get ready, get your coat and whatever else you need? I’ll