Fourteen.  Nick

They reached Nick’s house as the storm finally began to ease; the sky was clearing to a soft grey and the rain was falling more softly. Nick let them in and listened, the house was quiet; his father was at work and his mother was spending a few days at a health farm. He showed Elly up to his mother’s room and after rummaging through her wardrobe finally selected a pair of designer jeans and a Dior t-shirt as being the most suitable clothes for her to wear.
“Thanks,” said Elly and disappeared into the on-suite bathroom to dry her self off and change.

Nick went into his own room, grabbing a towel from the bathroom on the way. He changed quickly and went back to his mother’s room, he knocked and Elly opened the door. She was wearing the clothes he had picked out for her and although they were the least gaudy ones his mother owned they still looked weird on her. Elly had tied her long hair up in a pony tail, which was dripping slightly down her back.

“Hi,” she said shyly, “what shall I do with these?” She held out her own wet clothes.
“I’ll put them in the tumble drier, they’ll be dry in no time,” he said. “Come on, I’ll show you where the laundry room is.”
“You have a laundry room? How big is this place?”
“Five bedrooms, three bathrooms, kitchen, utility, laundry,” he counted them off on his fingers. “My father likes to bring people back here to impress them. Makes my mother host all these fancy dinner parties…she doesn’t enjoy them that much but my father loves being the centre of attention.”

They reached the laundry room and Nick started to put the wet clothes in the tumble drier.
“You can’t put them straight in there; they’re far too wet; you need to spin them first.” Elly took the clothes and looked around for the washing machine.
“What are you two up to?” A plump woman wearing an apron waddled into the room carrying a basket of washing.

“We got caught in the rain Mrs Jenkins,” said Nick. “I thought I’d dry Elly’s clothes.”

Mrs Jenkins peered at Elly, “Oh, I know you. You’re Joyce Barrett’s granddaughter.” She didn’t make this sound like it was a good thing. She plonked the basket down on the floor, huffing and puffing as she did so. “Give those here dearie, I’ll take care of it.” She took the wet clothes and dropped them into the sink. “How’s your mam doing dearie,” she asked Elly. “Is she still at the police station? I was telling my neighbour, Mrs Ellis, all about it. I said that poor wee girl, that’s who I feel sorry for. First her dad and now her mam…”

Nick grabbed Elly’s arm and pulled her towards the door. “Thanks Mrs Jenkins, but we’ve got stuff to do…” he said, and leaving her standing open-mouthed they left the room.

“Don’t take any notice of her; she’s a nasty busy-body. I think the only reason she works here is to pick up the latest juicy gossip.”
“It’s all right Nick, I know exactly what she’s like. She lives around the corner from us; she’s always spreading poison about someone. Now, where’s your dad’s study? You still want to have a look around it?”
Nick nodded and moments later they were standing outside the study door.

Nick’s mouth had gone dry; he knew that if they got caught his father would punish him brutally. But he had to know what was going on, what exactly his father was doing for Clifford that required secret meetings and strange packets. He tried the door and to his surprise it opened; he had expected it to be locked as usual. Swallowing his panic Nick and Elly entered the study.

It was quite a large room but most of it was taken up by an enormous desk that was covered in paperwork. Piles of documents lay next to grey folders, faxes and hand-written notes. Nick had a quick look through them but nothing seemed to be connected to Clifford; and there was no sign of the brown packet.

Elly was standing by the door looking petrified, “Nick, please hurry up,” she whispered.
“All right, I’ll just check these,” he said bending down to open one of the drawers under the desk. The first two contained stationery and more paperwork but the third one was locked; he tugged at it in frustration but it wouldn’t budge. Standing up he searched the desk again, this time he spotted a small metal tin half hidden under all the papers. He picked it up and opened it, inside was a small brass key.

He placed the key in the lock on the drawer, and hardly daring to breathe, he turned it. With a soft click it unlocked and Nick pulled the drawer open. Inside were yet more papers and right at the bottom the brown packet that Clifford had given his father.

He pulled it out and opened it, he heard Elly’s gasp of astonishment as he showed her the contents. Wads of crisp fifty pound notes, all neatly bound together, filled the packet.
“There must be thousands here,” said Nick, “what’s my father doing for Clifford that costs this much?”
“It can’t be legal, can it? If it was they wouldn’t be sneaking around the forest.”
“I’d better put it back, we need to get out of here,” he said.

The sound of tyres on the gravel outside the window made them both jump.
“It’s my father,” said Nick stuffing the packet back into the drawer and slamming it shut. “He’s come home early.
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