Lost Souls by Jenny O'Brien (android e book reader txt) 📕

of his dad’s old rucksack, pulling the toggle tight, the rest of his meagre belongings squashed down flat. He didn’t need much. His clothes rolled up in an old jumper acted like a pillow and, as he never bothered to get undressed at night, pyjamas were unnecessary. His most precious possession was something that had once belonged to his father, a Swiss Army knife that was never far from his hand. Not that he’d ever had to use it, apart from the miniature pliers. Sleeping rough at any age was dangerous but for an innocent eighteen-year-old, who would be the first to admit that he was still wet behind the ears, it was often terrifying.

The cave, situated on the headland of the Great Orme in Llandudno, was a cold, dark and isolated place to hide away from the rest of the world. Ronan had always been reclusive, preferring his own company to any other. He’d never been a great one for friends so it wasn’t something he could say he missed. He also wouldn’t admit to feeling lonely although he was desperately so. There was a wealth of difference between favouring his own company and enforced solitude. He often thought about his life and of how it used to be but that made it worse. Only by keeping active and continually on the go could he pause the relentless shower of self-pity from overwhelming him. At night he was too tired to do anything but sleep.

Ronan weighed decisions calmly in the quiet of his mind prior to taking any steps. The only exception was that seething anger, which had ended up destroying his future prospects. But that was all in the past. So much had happened in the last twelve months or so that it almost felt as if he were a different person to the one that had inhabited his former life. The bullying and expulsion from school seemed minor when sitting alongside his mother’s cancer and his dad’s arrest. He couldn’t pinpoint one solitary reason for running away but, with his mother trying to make a new life for herself along with his two younger brothers, it seemed as if there was no room in her plans for him. Not that she’d told him to leave or anything. But the mess he’d made of things was there in every look and every sentence.

So, one morning, two months ago, he’d put everything he thought he’d need on the top of his bed. Picking up his dad’s rucksack – his rucksack now – he’d methodically packed the minimum of belongings and headed out of the house, leaving behind a ripped page from a jotter with a few words penned in his careful hand.

His life wasn’t what he’d planned but, until he could puzzle out what he actually wanted, he was content enough to let the days run into each other. He had access to his savings account, which he eked out on yellow-sticker products in the local supermarkets, supplementing his diet with visits to the soup kitchen run by one of the local churches. He even managed to take on some work for the vicar, who’d swiftly realised that Ronan was a touch out of the ordinary compared with his usual lost causes. He didn’t drink or smoke for a start and as for doing drugs …

A quick scan of the brightening sky told Ronan that he needed to get a move on. The cave was the safest place he’d found in which to rest his head but only as long as he remained undiscovered. Security had tightened with the warden increasing the patrols now that it was the height of the summer but, for whatever reason, they were yet to discover Ronan’s secret resting place. The caves, a favourite with social dropouts, had each been fitted with gates for the very purpose of keeping the likes of him out.

A precocious child, Ronan had decided from an early age that the only barriers were the ones he erected and, with dedication and practice, he’d always solved whatever mental problem he set. He’d astounded his parents when he’d mastered the Rubik’s Cube but, for someone like Ronan that was child’s play and he rapidly progressed to more complex puzzles. Learning to pick locks was one such skill he’d honed in the quiet of his bedroom. With the help of the little pliers hidden in his dad’s Swiss Army knife, and two sturdy paper clips, the padlock was no barrier unless they found him.

Turning to give a final tug on the gate, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of the kid in front of him. His gaze raked over her, taking in the long fair hair, jeans and large rucksack in one glance, while he peered over her shoulder for her parents. Was this it then, his secret out? There was no way he could explain away what he was doing.

‘Hello. Shouldn’t you be with an adult?’ he said, finally deducting that she was on her own.

‘Shouldn’t you?’

He raised his eyebrows.

Feisty little thing. Perhaps the absent parent wasn’t as clear-cut as it seemed but she was so not his problem.

He bent to pick up his rucksack, adjusting the weight on his shoulders and clipping the strap around his waist. Whatever she was doing, the one thing he knew was that he couldn’t hang around or they’d find him.

‘Well, see you around then.’

‘Hold on.’ She ran to catch up with him, her legs working overtime to match his long stride.

‘What is it?’

She stood there, her eyes starting to fill. ‘I-I’ve run away.’

‘You’ve run away,’ he repeated, struggling not to let his jaw drop. ‘Why?’

But instead of answering, she simply dropped her head.

He stared at her, recalling the determined set of her mouth with a frown. She was only a kid and a little kid at that. She wouldn’t last two minutes on her own. He closed his eyes. She’d last less than that if someone didn’t watch out for