Angel Kiss - Laura Jane Cassidy [47]
‘Fine … I’ll burn the bloody bag. Whose is it anyway?’
The colour was exactly the same as the chocolate-brown bag from my dream. I couldn’t believe it. I had to have a closer look at them. I started to climb the pile, my fingernails desperately scraping at the dirt as I tried to hoist myself up. Bits of rubber and shards of plastic fell down on to the ground. I was trying not to tear any of the bin bags because they smelled disgusting. The smell was less potent without the sun on it, but it was still nauseating. I had no choice though. I had to grab hold of those two brown handles. Holding my breath, I lunged up and almost grasped them but then I lost my footing and fell to the ground.
‘Ow!’ I shouted as my shoulder hit the earth hard, but I was determined to try again. I scrambled back up the pile, quickly grabbed the handles and pulled them. A brown leather bag came free. Adrenalin pulsed through me at the sight of it. It was the same bag I’d seen in my nightmare.
I climbed back down and opened it. Then I let out a little shriek. Something had just scurried across my hand. A mouse. A tiny field mouse. I snapped the bag closed and hurried back towards the caravan, examining my new find on the way. There was a tear in the side, but other than that the bag seemed to be in pretty good condition. It was filthy and smelly though, so I couldn’t take it into the caravan. I decided to stash it in the hedge, as Mum probably wouldn’t come across it there. But first I sat down on the grass and opened it up.
Inside were four things: a black wallet, a packet of violin strings, a lipstick and a blue woolly hat. I took the lid off the lipstick. It was a bright red colour, half used. The hat was frayed at the bottom. The packet of violin strings was unopened and the price sticker was still on it – £12.50. I unzipped the wallet. There was just one thing in it – a small piece of paper that looked like it might have been a receipt, but the writing on it was too faded to make out. There were no cards, no photographs, no money. This was disappointing, but even without proof I knew who the bag belonged to. I could hardly believe it. I could hardly believe what I’d found.
Miss Jane had a bag
And a mouse was in it.
She opened the bag;
He was out in a minute.
Chapter 14
You notice different things when you get up early. I noticed how Des Butler locked his front door from the outside and double-checked that his sitting-room window was shut before getting into his van. I noticed that Mary Reynolds arrived at her shop at eight o’clock, even though she didn’t open its doors until nine, and I noticed that Patrick Smyth kissed Brigid on the cheek, at the door of the guesthouse, before getting into his car and driving to work. From my position on the bench in the communal garden I could easily view the morning activities on the main street. I enjoyed observing the world, just watching what everybody was doing, without being part of it. It felt nice to be on the outskirts, to be invisible. I wondered if spirits liked doing that. Being able to go through the world unwatched, nobody knowing they were there. Well, apart from a few. People like Ger. People like me.
I loved the garden. I’d decided it was probably one of my favourite spots in Avarna. I felt a sense of security here that I didn’t get anywhere else. And in the early mornings it seemed there was never anybody there. I could happily stay for ages. Relaxing. Watching.
The river glittered in the sunlight. It was beautiful from a distance but when I walked over and looked more closely I