The Hollows(22)

She left the room, leaving her dad repeating his demands that Vivian do something about the ants and replace the mattress.

Through the front window she could see Ryan sitting outside his cabin, drinking coffee and reading a book. He was so grown-up and sophisticated. Why weren’t there any boys like him in her class? They were a bunch of pimply perverts who talked about nothing except baseball and Fortnite.

She went outside.

‘Hey,’ she said, approaching the deck where Ryan sat.

‘Hey.’ He put the book down. It was a horror novel called Sweetmeat with a big sticker on the front: Now a Major Netflix Series. Frankie had already binge-watched it – it starred that British actress, Ruth something-or-other – but hadn’t read the book yet.

‘Do you want to go for a walk?’ she asked.

Before he could reply, Ryan’s mum, Connie, came out. ‘Hey, honey,’ she said to Frankie. She nodded at the Hollow Falls golf buggy parked outside the Andersons’ cabin, which Vivian had arrived in. The staff drove them all around the site. ‘Everything okay?’

Frankie told her about the ants.

‘Holy shit. It’s like Mother Nature is pissed with us. Ants. Dead rabbits.’ She clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, damn.’

Ryan rolled his eyes. ‘Mom!’

‘Dead rabbits?’ said Frankie.

‘Come on,’ Ryan said, getting to his feet. ‘Let’s go for that walk.’

Halfway to the lake, Ryan groaned. His dad was coming up the path towards them, wearing a baseball cap and a Harley-Davidson T-shirt.

‘Hey, guys,’ he said, cheerily. He seemed excited about something.

‘What are you grinning about?’ Ryan asked.

‘It’s a beautiful morning! Why wouldn’t I be happy?’

Ryan rolled his eyes again. When they walked on, he said, ‘He’s up to something.’

‘Like what?’

‘Who cares?’

Ryan was striding ahead so quickly that she had to jog to keep up with him. They stopped by the picnic benches, which were full of holiday-makers stuffing their faces or queuing for boat rides. Fleetingly, Frankie remembered that she and Dad were meant to be going for a pony ride that afternoon. More baby stuff. She’d been into horses and ponies back when she was a child. She wondered if she could get out of it, though she could picture his disappointed face.

‘What was your mum talking about?’ she asked. ‘Dead rabbits?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Come on, you have to tell me.’

He exhaled. ‘Okay, but don’t freak out. We found a rabbit outside our cabin.’ Seeing her take a deep breath, he hurriedly added, ‘Almost certainly left there by a cat or a fox.’

‘What did it look like?’

‘I don’t know. Like a regular rabbit. White fur. It was kinda bloody . . . Sorry.’

‘White fur?’ A horrible thought struck her. ‘Did it look like Swifty?’

‘I can’t remember. Sorry, but most rabbits look the same to me.’

She pulled out her phone. Something had hit her. Something horrible. She began to read out the messages she’d first read yesterday.

‘Run rabbit run. And this one. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.’

It felt like the ants were swarming all over her again.

‘What are you talking about?’ Ryan asked.

She took a deep breath. ‘If they looked at my Instagram, they would have seen all the pics of Swifty.’

She couldn’t work out if Ryan was pretending not to understand what she meant.

‘Don’t you get it? Run rabbit run. Then a rabbit that looked like my pet was left out here. And Don’t let the bed bugs bite. That’s obviously a reference to the ants.’ She stared at him, breathing hard.

‘I think you’re putting two and two together and getting a thousand,’ he said. ‘I mean, the rabbit wasn’t even outside your cabin.’

‘So? They could easily have got confused. If they followed us back here. Or have been watching us . . .’ She felt sick. ‘Or maybe they were trying to frighten you. I mean, you’re the one who dissed them.’

‘Frankie, seriously. It’s just nature. A fox killed that rabbit and the ants got in on their own. We’re in the middle of the woods. That’s the kind of shit that happens out here.’

She wanted him to be right. She really did. Except she couldn’t let it go.

‘But what if it is the people we upset on Instagram? Trying to get their own back?’

Ryan’s laugh wounded her, and it must have showed on her face because he said, ‘Sorry. I’m not mocking you. It just sounds . . . unlikely.’

‘It’s not unlikely. I think we should apologise.’

‘What for? Telling the truth?’

‘You don’t mean that. You were upset because of those weird kids.’

‘What, you don’t think Penance is a shithole?’

‘Maybe it is. But how would you feel if someone said horrible things about your hometown?’

‘Ha. I’d agree with them. I certainly wouldn’t go around trying to get revenge. But . . . maybe you’re right,’ he said, suddenly changing tack. ‘Not about them taking revenge or whatever, but about it not being nice. I get a little carried away sometimes.’