Blood Entwines (11 page)

Kara slammed her locker door closed. The day had passed slower than a wet week. Some of the other students were staring at her. She made a mental note to try to contain the new exuberance of her body whilst in the vicinity of
normal
people. She thought about Hannah for the hundredth time that day. Where the hell was she? Kara didn't have her phone number, had no idea where the girl lived. To say that they needed to talk was a serious understatement. A niggling concern kept popping into her head. Had Hannah made it home in one piece?

Fresh air, she needed some fresh air. Kara walked through the school doors out into the wintery sunshine. Curling the tips of her fingers into the sleeve of her jumper, she huffed out a steamy breath. She liked days like this, when the atmosphere was crisp, crinkling with almost snow.

Across the car park Kara noticed Ben talking to one of his friends. He saw her and waved. She raised her jumpered hand, feeling foolish. This trying-to-avoid-Ben business was harder than she expected. She walked on, wishing for longer hair so that she could cover her face.

‘Keep moving, just keep moving,' she whispered to herself.

‘Hey.' Ben touched her arm.

Kara stopped, a smile plastered to her face, ‘Hi.'
Too eager
. Her voice sounded pathetically keen. Why was he talking to her? Surely after the incident with Ashleigh nobody in the whole school wanted to converse with her.

‘How have you been? I haven't seen you around much.' Concern crinkled the corners of his eyes.

Kara felt her heart skip a beat. She prayed that he wouldn't notice the tint of pink creeping up her cheeks.

‘I've been fine,' she lied.

In the smallest, most backward part of her brain she wondered if the weirdo knife-wielder would be waiting for her this evening. She caught a whiff on the air, like rotting garbage.

She shivered involuntarily.

Could she outrun him?

Would he try to hurt her?

Streams of adrenalin began to course through her veins, making her shift anxiously from one foot to another; all the while Ben was watching her, waiting for her to say something.

‘Um, Ben, I have to go. Rosemary is . . . I have an appointment.' She gestured in the general direction of her house, babbling like a verbally incontinent ninny. ‘Sorry I haven't been very chatty lately.'

Shut up, shut up
, her brain shouted at her, but her mouth kept working, forming pointless words.

‘I've had some personal stuff to try and sort out and have been feeling a bit off.'

Ben's brow puckered into a frown. Kara cringed; she was being such a dork.

‘No problem, Kara. I know things have been a bit tough lately.'

Ya, no thanks to your girlfriend
.

‘You better get on, then,' he said.

Kara wasn't sure what he meant and it took her a moment to realise he was waiting for her to rush off for her very important appointment with her stepmother.

Kara cursed her stupidity and stepped away from him. ‘See you tomorrow.'

She knew Ben was watching her as she walked away, shoulders tense. She tried to progress with poise and confidence. She was concentrating so hard that she stumbled over her own feet.

A groan of embarrassment worked its way through her lips.

Keep moving and under no circumstances do you turn round
.

For once she actually listened to her inner voice. There were more pressing matters to think about than Ashleigh Jameson's lovely boyfriend.

Resolute determination sharpened her mind. The weirdo with the knife, the man Hannah has been dreaming about, the whole thing was totally weird. But Kara was going to get to the bottom of this mess. Maybe he was a drug dealer, Hannah some kind of crack whore. The thought made Kara smile. As if! Hannah was a top honours student who never got into a lick of trouble.

No, this was something else, something more complicated. She walked cautiously along the street, her nose cocked in the air, alert for the smell of rotting garbage.

Curiosity and a strange residue of what Kara could only describe as anticipation kept her adrenalin going and her thoughts on edge as she walked along the footpath.

She was confident that if this guy made a move on her, she (a) could easily outrun him and (b) would at least be able to inflict some sort of damage on him, allowing her time to get away.

Not that she intended approaching him down a dark alleyway in the middle of the night . . . not that she intended on approaching him at all, she reassured her sensible self.

It was just that if he happened to be there on the way home she would say hi. The thought almost made her laugh out loud. Perhaps she was losing her mind, another side effect of her personality displacement. Say hi to a weirdo who showed up outside her school, has the worst case of BO imaginable, somehow knows that her friend has a freakish talent and claims that Kara has something belonging to him.

Well, she would just see what happened.

The soft sound of an engine behind her caught her attention at the end of the road. She wondered if it was a motorbike and increased her pace slightly, anxious to get home, all bravado deserting her.

The purr of the engine was getting nearer and sounded as if it was slowing down. Kara caught the faint whiff of something worryingly familiar. She walked on, refusing to turn round, her heart stuffed somewhere in the back of her throat.

She heard her name and closed one eye, unwilling to turn round. She wanted to touch her face, smooth any redness away, pat her hair into some kind of order. She turned slowly and approached the edge of the footpath.

‘Hi.'

Ben rolled down the window and looked expectantly at her, ‘Do you want a lift? It seemed kind of important, your appointment thing.'

Kara scanned the road ahead, noting the elongating shadows, the dark places behind walls, at the base of the leafless trees. The smell of rotting garbage tickled her nose. The weirdo was nearby; she was certain of it.

What was she
thinking
, walking home on her own?

‘Sure.' She opened the door and slid into the seat, her cold hands fumbling with her bag.

They travelled in silence for a minute, Kara frantically trying to think of something to say. Should she ask about his training? She knew the final scouting matches were coming up soon, that Ben would be trying to impress the coach from St David's. Maybe she should ask about his family, but Ben rarely spoke about home. She realised she knew very little about him, apart from his love of football and the crossover in their class schedule. She hoped that he wouldn't drop Ashleigh's name into the conversation. Kara definitely didn't want to discuss
that
topic.

All too soon they rounded the corner of her street and she could see her house. Expertly he pulled the car over, cutting the engine. She smiled politely at him as she gathered up her school satchel, wondering how to get out of the car in the most dignified manner.

She glanced at him. He was smirking at her. What had she done now? Should she say something?

‘OK . . . so thanks for the lift.'

She fumbled with her possessions and began to turn towards the door.

‘Kara.'

‘Ya.'

‘Do you think you should undo your seatbelt before you try to get out?'

Kara looked down at her belt, still safely buckled.
Oh no.
Fumbling, her fingers tried to simultaneously undo the belt, while keeping all her possessions safely accounted for. The result of the exercise wasn't very fruitful. She didn't dare look at him, in case he was laughing at her.

The seat belt was stuck. She had pressed the red release button twice now and nothing. She could feel her temper begin to uncoil. Sitting back she took a couple of deep breaths. Ben leaned over and, with a click, undid the belt for her. He was very close. She could smell his aftershave. His whole body was turned towards her. He was really very large next to her, encased in the small space of his mum's car. She swallowed nervously and looked at him. His hazel eyes regarded her intently. She was finding it hard to breathe, the space lacking oxygen. She very badly wanted to loosen the top button of her shirt.

‘You owe me,' he said quietly.

‘Excuse me?'

‘You kinda stood me up at the Halloween dance.'

Kara twitched her head; she was confused. ‘You took Ashleigh. Ashleigh and you . . . you are, like . . .' Kara moved her hands together, joining them, trying to elaborate her poorly chosen words.

Oh, ground, please open, please just swallow me, even if you have to take the car too
.

Ben scoffed, moving back in his seat.

He cleared his throat. ‘Ashleigh and I went together as friends. She said she needed a date and that you had wanted her and me to go together.'

‘What?' Kara tried to keep the indignation from her voice.

‘You didn't tell her anything of the sort, did you?' He clenched his fists at the steering wheel.

Kara shook her head. ‘I thought you two were . . .'

‘What? A couple?' Ben looked out of the window. ‘Me and Ashleigh would never work. Besides, I'm not interested. I have my eye on someone else.'

Kara squirmed in her seat, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. Ashleigh had lied to him, had lied to them both.

The little manipulative . .
.

Dating Ben Shephard – that was the cause of all this trouble with Ashleigh. But it was so unfair, she'd never
technically
dated him
. . .

‘OK.' Kara turned towards him, her voice hesitant.

‘OK, what?'

‘I owe you. You can take me out.'

Screw you, Ashleigh Jameson
.

Kara imagined the look of horror on Ashleigh's face.

‘You sure?' Ben asked.

‘You want it in writing or something? Signed in blood?' She smiled at him. ‘I'm sure.'

He grinned back at her. ‘Great. Tomorrow? We can take a drive up to the gap. I'll show you the view at night.'

Kara swallowed slowly. The gap.
Oh crap
. If Rosemary found out she was going up there, she would freak. University students and those fortunate enough to have their own car went up there. It was a slice of the mountainside carved out, it seemed, by the hand of a higher power. A huge chunk of landscape was missing when you drove up the curving mountain road, your ears popping all the way. It was a notorious drinking spot.

‘Great.' She smiled tightly at him, hoping he hadn't caught the hint of panic in her voice.

‘I'll pick you up at seven thirty.'

Kara kept her mouth shut and nodded her head in agreement, afraid a squeak of fright or anticipation might escape from her at any second.
The gap, the gap, the gap.
The words seemed to be bouncing through her brain. She knew she'd better say something.

‘OK. See you then.'

With a blast of determination, she pulled the door handle and hurled herself and her belongings as gracefully as she could out of the car.

Ben parked in his driveway. He sat, thinking about Kara. He wondered what it would be like to almost die. For a fleeting second, he considered if he would want to wake up. Shaking his head, he opened the car door, easing out of the driver's seat. The tendons around his knee stretched, the sensation unpleasant.

To distract himself he considered his current predicament: Ashleigh.

She was a problem, a carbuncle of a problem. He was such a fool for believing her. Why had he not insisted on visiting Kara in hospital?

‘Kara is not able to cope with visitors, Ben. Her stepmother has requested that people respect her wishes and leave her to recover.'

Those were her exact words, her big eyes unblinking, her lie so believable. He knew that she was calculating, but to lie about her best friend? He wondered about her connection with the head coach from St David's. Supposedly, if the rumours were to be believed, Ashleigh had a new boyfriend, someone older. Perhaps Ben was off the hook now. There was no doubt in his mind that if he crossed her she would concoct lies to scupper his chance at a scholarship. He'd kept off her radar with sheer skill these last six months. He should continue to do so, just to be on the safe side.

He had missed Kara when she was recovering from her accident. Biology class lost its spark of expectation when she wasn't there. Instead it was just textbooks, experiments and tedium. He hadn't realised how much he liked her till she was gone.

Keeping his mind off girls at school had been hard. He would never be able to bring them home and he couldn't afford to let anyone get too close, but with Kara and her past he felt that perhaps she would understand if he kept her at a distance from his private life. Both of them had lost a parent, both of them had experienced grief – maybe she would be more understanding.

Ben let himself into the house. The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was thick and acrid, like burnt charcoal. He dropped his bag and in four easy steps was through to the kitchen, flicking the switch for the toaster off at the wall. A screen of smoke billowed from two charred remnants of bread in the jaws of the kitchen appliance. They smouldered, hissing at him.

‘For fuck's sake!' He banged his fist down hard on the countertop. The cups and cutlery on the draining board rattled with the force of his anger. What if Alexandra and James had been at home? Things were getting out of hand.

Was it not bad enough that the bank was looking to repossess the house, let alone having his mother burn the place down around their ears? He had to get out of here. The sooner he got on a university course, the sooner he could get a qualification and start earning decent money. He needed to look after his brother and sister. They were his responsibility; he had promised his father.

He walked through the kitchen into the living room. The TV was on, a talk show blaring full blast. His mother lay on the couch, one arm dipping across her chest, the other falling lopsided off the edge, drooping near the carpet.

His aunt Christine would be over soon, dropping off the twins. Ben looked around the sitting room. The place was a mess and he didn't have time to tidy it up – he had to get dinner started.

He went back into the kitchen and opened the window, hoping to air out the worst of the smell. If Christine came over and found his mother like this, she would most likely insist on keeping the twins overnight. Ben didn't mind so much, but he missed his brother and sister when they were gone. The house seemed too quiet without them. And Christine had three kids of her own. It wasn't fair to impose all the time.

He searched through the fridge for ingredients for a meal. They were out of milk and had only one egg left. His mother rarely left the house and, as she said herself, couldn't be expected to think of things like groceries when she suffered from such a heavy bout of depression. Ben wondered where the depression left off and the alcoholism kicked in. Not that his mother, Stephanie Shephard, one-time school principal, would ever admit to having a drink problem.

The snores from the sitting room mocked him.

He found a heel of cheese in the fridge and rummaged for some bread; French toast with grilled cheese? Not exactly a meal for kings, but it would have to do. He wondered what people thought of them from the outside. His father, a successful lawyer, his mother, an upstanding member of the community, his house, a nice four-bedroom detached two-storey property with well-kept lawns and room for two cars in the driveway. The reality behind closed doors was very different.

To distract from his problems, he pictured Kara, the way her blue eyes changed colour. She wrinkled the bridge of her nose when she was concentrating really hard in class. He had spent a long time watching her when she'd first moved to the school, wondering why she seemed to gravitate towards Ashleigh and Jenny. She was completely different to the rest of them.

He understood what it was like to lose a parent and had kept an eye on her during her first few months, never paying her too much attention, knowing full well what Ashleigh would do to her if he had.

Ashleigh. What to do with her? She was beautiful, yes. Smart and funny, deadly as a rattlesnake in a box. Ben had seen, many times, the darkening of her eyes, the pinch of her lips, the deep fury at being defied. Anything she wanted, she would get, anything except him. He was just not interested. In truth, her anger reminded him of his father.

The insurance cheque after his dad's death had secured the family's financial independence, allowing his mother to take early retirement and to pay for her expensive drinking habit. That habit was now eating into their savings, forcing them to make cuts and sacrifices. There was barely enough money for the twin's schooling, let alone university fees.

Determined, Ben had convinced himself that he didn't have time for girls; his training was the most important thing. His coach had said initial offers of interest had been made from two of the major universities for a sport's scholarship. All he needed to do was keep his head down and stay out of trouble.

Kara Bailey didn't seem like trouble.

It might be fun to spend some time with her.

Tomorrow night he would take her to the gap. Ben could do two things at once. He needed to meet Conor. They had some business to attend to. He tapped his phone, checking his messages for the fifth or sixth time that day, rereading the text.

The gap, Friday, 8 p.m., two tabs
.

It was all he could afford right now. The rest of the money from his summer job had been spent on the twins: school shoes for them, a deposit for their summer tennis camp. Plus some upkeep on the backyard. He had to watch his money, but he needed one, maybe two, hits of amphetamine, in case of an emergency.

He flexed his knee. It seemed OK.

For now.

He heard his mother stir in the front room, roused from her drunken stupor. He needed to get her into bed before Christine came round with the twins. If she saw the state of his mum, she might start talking about foster care again and that was a topic that Ben did not want to discuss, not now, not ever.

He would keep his family together, no matter what.