Bet Your Life (18 page)

“But I don’t understand what happened. I thought he was fine when you left him.”

“He was.” Lily, sounding upset.

“Shh. Someone will hear.” A third voice.

“There’s no one here. Anyway, it’s not our fault. It can’t be. Nothing happened to him when he was with us.”

“He hit his head on the door frame.” The first person was speaking again. “When we were getting him into the car.”

“Not hard enough to fracture his skull,” Lily snapped. “But they say it’s pretty bad. And he’s still unconscious.”

Well, that settled who
he
was. I needed to know who Lily was talking to. I went on tiptoe to peer through the shelves. Lily was standing beside a table covered in books, where Amanda Secombe and Ruth Pritchard were sitting, side by side. Finding Amanda and Ruth in a library wasn’t in the least remarkable; the two of them vied for top position in our class and spent every possible moment studying. It was strange that they were sitting together, though, because as far as I knew, they were sworn enemies.

Ruth looked as if she’d hardly slept since I saw her on the cliffs. Her face was bloodless but her expression was fierce. Amanda, in contrast, looked calm. She was large, pale, slow-moving, and a regular victim of Ruth’s sarcasm. And it was a mystery to me what they had in common with Lily, with her piercings and hair dye, who had a constellation of stars tattooed on the inside of her wrist and the word
Serendipity
in script across the nape of her neck.

“This was all your idea,” Lily said to Ruth, who looked pinched.

“You were the ones who saw him last. I wasn’t there. I don’t know what you did.”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I got the number. I dropped the phone and I left.”

“What about the others?” Amanda asked.

“They had to go to the fireworks,” Ruth said. “They couldn’t have done anything.”

“You don’t know what they did after they left. I knew we couldn’t trust them.” Amanda sounded morose.

“You’re just putting the blame on them because they’re not here.” Lily bit her lip, almost in tears. “I know what you’ll do if anyone finds out. You’ll blame me.”

“You were the last one with him,” Ruth said. “You’ve got more explaining to do than the rest of us.”

The voice behind me was loud enough to make me jump out of my skin. “Look who I found. What are you doing back here, Jess?”

I turned to see Immy peering at me from under a black fedora that almost hid her hair and made her look absolutely adorable. Claudia came up behind her.

“Well, if it isn’t the face that launched a thousand punches.”

“Indoors voice, Claudia,” I hissed. “This is a library.” I didn’t dare look through the shelves to see if the three girls had overheard, but I couldn’t imagine how they’d have missed Immy and Claudia braying at me.

“Going somewhere?” Immy pulled a book off the shelf and handed it to me. “May I suggest this one?”

“
The Sights of London
. Nice of you, but I’ve already seen them.”

Immy gave a tinkly laugh. “I’m just messing around.”

Claudia tilted her head to one side, sweetness and light personified. “How are you, Jess? You didn’t stay long at the party last night.”

“It wasn’t my sort of thing.”

“It was an
awesome
fight.” Immy leaned against the shelves. “Didn’t it give you the tiniest thrill to know that they were fighting over you?”

“Not really.”

“You are such a joy-killer.” Immy looked at Claudia. “Who knew Will Henderson was so hot?”

“Jess did.”

I felt my face flame.

“Apart from her.”

Claudia shrugged. To me, she said, “So what’s the deal with the two of you? Are you seeing him or Ryan?”

“Neither.”

“How come?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m sorry.”

“We’re just being nosy.” Claudia half smiled. “This is what it’s like to be on the other end.”

“Funny.” I glanced through the gap in the shelves but I couldn’t see Lily any more. I assumed they’d finished their conversation. I made the best of things. “Speaking of being nosy, I hear Guy and Seb had a fight the other night, just like Will and Ryan. How come you didn’t mention it to me when I asked you about him in the café?”

“I only just found out about it,” Immy said quickly. “Last night. Someone was talking about it. I didn’t see it happen.”

“Yeah,” Claudia said. “It was between the two of them, from what I heard. Not a big thing like last night.”

“Did you happen to hear why they were fighting?”

Immy looked at Claudia for guidance. “No. Not really. Just rumors.”

“Saying what?”

“They’ve never got on. Seb did something to annoy Guy, deliberately, and Guy snapped.”

“What did he do?”

“I don’t want to say.” Claudia was looking stubborn. Less horse today; more mule. “I don’t think it’s any of your business. Or ours.”

“I heard he pulled someone Guy fancied,” I ventured.

“Then you heard plenty.” Claudia caught her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. “It’s not fun gossip, Jess. It’s just unpleasant.”

That was all I was getting, I could tell. “And you can’t say who it was.”

“Sorry.”

“Not one of you two, though.”

“No way.” Immy looked outraged at the very suggestion.

“How’s the hair?” I asked.

She flipped her hat off to show me. “Still pink. I actually like it, I think.”

“You and a few other people.” I told her about the girls I’d seen and she laughed.

“Amazing. I’m going to have to go purple next. Change it up.”

Claudia sniffed. “We should go, Immy. I need to find that book.”

“Oh yeah.” Immy looked around vacantly.

“Which book?” I asked.

“
A Passage to India
. It’s by E. M. Forster.” She said it as if she didn’t expect me to have heard of it. “Is this the travel section?”

“You need fiction. This is nonfiction.”

Claudia gave me a bright smile. “
So
confusing.”

“I can imagine.”

“Let’s just see if there’s a film of it. You can watch the DVD,” Immy said, stifling a yawn.

I watched them walk off, waiting until they were out of sight before I spun round and looked through the shelves. Amanda sat on her own, hunched over a book that was propped up in front of her. She was reading intently, her mouth slightly open, her hands in fists on either side of her forehead. There was no sign of Ruth or Lily. I’d missed my chance.

I came out from behind the shelves since there was no point in hiding anymore. Amanda didn’t acknowledge my presence in any way. So much for stealth: I could have been wearing a gorilla suit and jumping up and down for all the attention she paid me. I moved casually to a point where I could see the books on her desk. Medieval history. About which I knew nothing. Scrapping the idea of getting into a conversation about what she was reading, I sauntered past, close enough to knock a stack of books off the edge of her desk with a well-timed swipe.

“I’m so sorry.” I knelt down and started to pile them up again. “That was so clumsy.”

“Don’t worry.” No smile on Amanda’s face, but her demeanor wasn’t actually hostile. Just blank. And Amanda was a girl of few words normally, so I’d have been surprised if she’d been chatty.

“What are you reading?” I asked.

“
The Waning of the Middle Ages
. Huizinga.” She showed me the cover of the book. “It’s a classic.”

“I’m sure it is.”
Feeble … Think of something else to say
. I stood up. “Is it for school?”

“Not really. I’m just interested.”

“Oh. That’s … great.” Inspiration came at the last possible moment. Amanda had already put the book back down and was leaning in to continue reading when I remembered something. “Have you ever been in St. Laurence’s Church?”

“What?” She actually jumped. “What did you say?”

“You know, in St. Laurence Square. It’s got this incredible iron door that dates from the Middle Ages, covered in animals and leaves. It’s really beautiful.” Tilly had taken me to see it during a brief but intense period of sightseeing, just after I came to Port Sentinel for the first time. Most of what I’d seen had blended into one hazy muddle—there were only so many rood screens and baptismal fonts and important architectural features I could remember. The door had stayed in my mind, though, probably because it featured two grinning Plantagenet lions that reminded me of the Sandhayes cats.

“I’d forgotten that. I have seen it, but I’ll go and have another look some time.”

“St. Laurence Square is so pretty too. I loved sitting there under the tree when the weather was warmer.”

Amanda stared at me stolidly.

“Did you know that’s where Seb Dawson ended up the other night? When he was injured, on Halloween?”

“I heard. Are you friends with him?” she asked abruptly.

“No. Not at all. I don’t know him. Just to see.”

She nodded. “I don’t really know him either.”

“Really? Have you ever spoken to him?”

“Probably, but I can’t remember the circumstances.” Her face was bright red now, her eyes fixed on mine as if she was trying to make herself look honest and direct. The effect was more alarming than reassuring. “I’m not friends with him or his friends. I don’t know any of them.”

“Even from school?”

“None of them would talk to me.” There was the faintest touch of bitterness in her voice. “I wouldn’t expect it. I don’t think we’d have much in common.”

“I doubt Seb knows much about the Middle Ages. You’re too clever for the likes of him.”

She raised her eyebrows. “That’s not it and you know it. They don’t talk to me because I’m a freak.”

“No, that’s not—”

“They call me A-
man
-da. Or Sea Cow. Seb came up with those names.”

I sat down on Ruth’s abandoned chair, pulling it in to get closer to her. “Look, from what I’ve heard they’re horrible to everyone. If he said something like that to you, I’m really sorry. But you’re not the only one.”

“I know that. It doesn’t actually help when someone says something like that to you and you know it’s true. And don’t try to tell me I’m not odd-looking, because I am. I know I am.”

I felt really, intensely awkward. No one was going to make nasty remarks to me about my appearance, and if they did I could ignore them. I couldn’t begin to imagine what life was like for Amanda, who was tall and broad-shouldered, with a square jaw and big hands and bushy eyebrows that met over her nose.

“Seb asked if I’d ever done any shot-put competitions or weightlifting. He told me I looked like an East German athlete from the 1970s. A man, basically. The reason everyone laughed was because they thought so too.” She was watching me intently, waiting to see if I laughed too. I’d never felt less like laughing but I didn’t want to be patronizing either. She would know if I lied to make her feel better. So, the truth.

“If someone asked me to describe you, the first thing I’d tell them is how brainy you are, not what you look like. And you look fine, anyway. Only someone mean-spirited like Seb would make fun of you. He picks on everyone.”

She sighed. “You’re just being nice to me. Why are you being nice? What do you want?”

I want to know what you did to Seb. I want to find out who else was involved and why
. “Do I have to want something?”

“Everybody wants something.”

“Not me.” I waited a second. “I’m guessing you haven’t spent much time weeping over what happened to Seb, though.”

“Not a lot.”

“Do you know who did it?”

“No.” We were back to the direct stare. I hadn’t noticed before but her eyes were lovely—pale blue with an indigo circle around the iris.

“Have you heard anything about it?”

“Just that he’s in hospital.”

“His little sister is really worried about him.” It was worth a try.

Amanda’s face remained impassive. “It must be very upsetting for her.”

“She’d like to know what happened to him, and why.”

“She’s probably better off not knowing.”

I pounced. “Why do you say that?”

“So she can think the best of him, instead of knowing the truth.”

“Which is?”

“He had it coming.”

I was about to answer her when I stopped. Someone else had said that to me, using that exact phrase. “Have you been talking to Claudia Carmichael?”

Amanda looked at me as if I was insane. “She’s one of Seb’s gang. Look, I have to read this. I’m sorry I can’t help.”

I stood up. “On the contrary. You’ve been a big help. Really.”

I could see her running through the conversation in her head to try to work out what she’d given away without realizing it. I left her to think about it. The truth was that the more I found out, the less I understood.

The only thing I knew for sure was that something bad had happened on Saturday night, and no one wanted me to know what it was.

13

I came out of the library and wandered into the park, sitting down on the same bench as before. One thing was bothering me: Claudia’s expression when she’d avoided telling me why Guy was angry with Seb. So few things counted as off limits for gossip that it had to be something truly awful. I wanted to know what it was, but I was almost reluctant to find out. If Beth hadn’t been depending on me, I might have stopped asking questions there and then.

In fact, it didn’t matter whether I wanted to investigate what had happened to Seb or not, because I’d hit a wall. I hadn’t the faintest idea what to do next. I could try to speak to Ruth, but I shrank from it. Amanda had been hard enough. I couldn’t imagine persuading Ruth to tell me all she knew.

Footsteps approaching with great speed made me turn my head and my heart sank all the way to the soles of my boots. A grim-faced Dan Henderson was striding toward me.

“Jess. I need to speak with you.”

“Oh, really? Why?” I was trying to think what I could have done to upset him—apart from the usual—and coming up blank. I stood up, anxious to avoid a tête-à-tête on the bench.

He stopped a little bit too close to me. In the bright sunshine he looked tired, his face drawn. “Have you been asking questions about Seb Dawson?”