Glimpse (8 page)

Bang!

The door to 12G bounced open against the wall. I jerked my head up from my book as if it was attached to the door handle with string.

Scott swaggered into the room. A shaky cocktail of worry and exhaustion jittered through my veins. I didn’t look at him as he thunked his weight down in the chair next to mine. But his very presence made my jaw clench.

Mr Scholars marched over to our table. ‘Continue silent reading, 12G!’ Then, lowering his voice: ‘Scott, we’re only a few days into the school year, and you’re already late for registration. Did you at least sign the late register?’

Scott slouched back in his chair. I could hear the plastic bend. ‘Nah, sir.’

Mr Scholars folded his arms, though he looked like he’d rather be folding his hands around Scott’s neck. ‘Get your book out. Sign in at reception on your way to class. You can explain to your next teacher why you’re late.’

‘I don’t have a book, sir.’

Mr Scholars was starting to look like an overripe plum – purple and fit to explode. I slid my open copy of
The Great Gatsby
in Scott’s direction.

Scott pressed a gold-ringed finger down on the opposite corner of the book, and scooted his chair a little closer to mine. ‘Sorted, sir.’

‘Thank you, Elizabeth,’ Mr Scholars said. ‘It’s nice to know someone in this class has manners.’

Scott snorted under his breath as Mr Scholars stalked away. I waited for our teacher to turn back and tell him off, but he didn’t. He went back to his desk, muttering something about ‘getting too old for this job’.

Scott had broken the studious mood, and whispered conversations sprang up one by one around the room. I’d planned to wait till break-time to confront him, but the sooner I got these poisonous questions out of my mind the better.

I glanced sideways. Scott met my gaze like he’d been waiting for me to look at him.

‘I saw you last night, outside my window. What were you doing?’ It was hard to keep my voice low so Katie and the others wouldn’t hear.

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Don’t play dumb. You were in your car. At two in the morning. And your friend, whoever he is, was creeping around too.’

Scott blanched. He obviously hadn’t known I’d seen him. He covered up his momentary embarrassment with a one-shouldered shrug. ‘Must be seeing things.’

I narrowed my eyes. That was a bad choice of words. ‘You were there,’ I repeated. ‘Why?’

‘I left something in my car. I came back to the inn to get it. Sorry if I woke you. I tried to be quiet.’

‘And your friend?’

He leaned away from me, giving up the pretence of reading my book. ‘That you are imagining. None of my mates have ever been over to the inn.’

I caught Katie frowning at us, and I buttoned my lip. But I burned to keep grilling him. Impatience gathered in my throat like wasps trapped in a bottle.

When the end-of-registration bell rang, Scott made an impressive transformation from slouched teen to marathon runner. But I was right on his heels as he swerved out of the classroom door.

‘Seriously,’ I said, catching up to him, ‘you’d better tell me what you were doing. I don’t want you hanging around my house at night.’

Scott swung his backpack like a barrier between us. ‘I’ve got to go to reception. If you keep following me you’ll be late to class.’

I ignored him and kept marching.

The corridors emptied as students disappeared into class-rooms. I followed Scott down a set of stairs. I could see the reception desk up ahead. I’d wait while he signed the late register and follow him to his next class if I had to, however late it made me with Miss Webb. This was much more important.

But before we could get there, Scott grabbed my satchel strap, jolting me to a halt.

He held up both hands before I could speak. ‘I’m sorry, okay? How many times do I have to say it? I was just getting something out of my car last night. That’s the truth.’

His eyes were so sincere, almost pleading. The anger in my blood dropped to a confused fizzle.

‘Me and my dad are used to coming and going as we want,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think. I’ll be more careful next time so I don’t disturb you.’

‘Well.’ I shifted my satchel on my shoulder, unsure whether to still be mad or not. ‘Okay. But I’d rather you weren’t sneaking around at all at night. And I will call the police if your friend keeps being creepy.’

‘Yeah.’ His mouth twisted. He tugged at one of his white-blond spikes. ‘Seriously, none of my friends were there last night.’

Unease prickled across my skin. ‘Well, someone was there. Right in front of your car, a minute before you got out. You can’t pretend you didn’t see him.’

‘But I didn’t.’ He stopped twisting his hair and dropped his hand to his side with a sigh. ‘There was no one there but me.’

I stared at him. Oh God.

Scott’s face was open and seemed sort of sad, like he really meant what he’d said. Worse – like he felt sorry for me.

My hands began to tremble. I clenched them into fists to keep them still. Scott was messing with me. Okay, yes, I saw Glimpses, but he didn’t know about those, and even so, that boy last night was nothing like a Glimpse. He was fully formed, fully corporeal, fully – well – fully there.

The corridors were completely empty now. I told myself to just walk away, but my feet wouldn’t move.

‘Look.’ Scott took the smallest step closer, so I could smell his aftershave. His voice lowered even further. ‘It’s okay. I know. Your dad told my dad, my dad told me . . .’

My mouth went as dry as if he’d shoved it full of sand. ‘Told you what?’

‘That you had . . . issues after your mum died.’ He tapped his head. ‘Nightmares, and the like. I know the other kids gave you a hard time at your last school about it.’

My jaw went slack with horror. ‘That’s not true,’ I whispered.

He shrugged. ‘Okay. Well, I just wanted to let you know that I know. But it’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me.’ He smiled and stepped back. ‘I’d better go. See you later, Liz.’

I was already late to History, but there was no way I could walk in there feeling like this. I could barely even walk, full stop.

I staggered to the nearest toilets, locked myself in a cubicle and sank onto the closed toilet seat. My mind churned. If a brain could vomit, mine would have done.

I couldn’t believe Dad. What had he told Crowley? Scott hadn’t mentioned my amnesia or my Glimpses outright, but if he knew I had ‘issues’ it was possible he knew everything. I covered my face with my hands. Scott had probably already told his gang. By the end of the day, it could be all over the school that the new girl was crazy.

I unlocked the toilet door and paced up and down between the sinks.

That boy, under the tree last night – there was no way he’d been a Glimpse. Glimpses gave me pins and needles. Glimpses were not entire people. But Scott had looked so sincere when he’d said he hadn’t seen him.

I stopped still. I didn’t know why I was even considering this. Obviously, Scott was lying. He’d heard about my problems, and he and his friends had decided to mess with my brain. The fact that he’d looked so sincere, that I’d almost believed him, only proved how dangerous he could be. At least with Derek, what you saw was what you got.

I looked at myself in the mirror, straightened my shirt dress, tried to wipe the look of angry panic from my face, and headed to History.

‘So nice of you to join us, Elizabeth.’ Miss Webb paused at the whiteboard as I entered the History room.

‘Sorry I’m late.’ I scuttled to my seat next to Susie at the front.

Miss Webb continued to glare at me until my textbook, pencil case and paper were on the desk. I could feel everyone in the class looking at me. It was a feeling I’d have to get used to if – when – Scott told people I saw things that weren’t there.

Eventually, Miss Webb turned back to the board and continued speaking. I cringed over my paper, writing the date and underlining it.

Susie caught my eye and gave me a mock-alarmed look.
You okay?
she mouthed.

I nodded. But my smile felt tight as stretched rubber.

‘As I was saying before our little interruption—’ Miss Webb shot one more glance at me ‘—we’re starting this term with a mini-project, in preparation for the assessed Historical Enquiries you’ll be doing later in the year. You’re going to research and present a historical topic of your choice. It’ll be a great opportunity for some Speaking and Listening experience.’

Low groans emanated from the room.

Miss Webb smacked her pen down on her desk, her frizzy grey hair waggling on her head like a clown’s. ‘Come on now. You’ll be interviewing for university or jobs soon, you should be grateful for the practice. You can choose any topic. The history of Hulbourn, witchcraft, the Spanish Inquisition.’ She clapped her hands. ‘Five minutes to find a partner and choose a topic.’ The room erupted with voices and the scraping of chairs.

I looked at Susie. ‘Need a partner?’

She’d already turned her chair towards me and uncapped a sparkly purple pen. She smiled. ‘Obviously. What do you want to research?’

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. After my confrontation with Scott, I was more grateful than ever that Susie hadn’t been put off me yet.

‘I don’t mind,’ I said. My mind was too caught up with worry to care about some History project. ‘Whatever you want.’

‘Something with a little gore? Witchcraft, maybe, sounded good?’

‘Already taken,’ Miss Webb barked behind us, making us both jump. ‘How about a project on our college’s namesake, Mr Noyes? It would be the obvious choice, given that – working with Liz here – you’ll have insider access to the inn, don’t you think?’ Miss Webb moved away to eavesdrop on someone else.

Susie rolled her eyes at her back. ‘I’m sorry, Liz, but if I have to research that bloody Highwayman poem again, I’m going to die of boredom.’

‘That’s okay.’ Miss Webb’s suggestion had sparked my brain back to life. ‘How about researching my inn though, if you don’t have any other ideas? It’s been in my family for generations and I hardly know a thing about it. There must be some stories we could dig up.’

‘Hmm.’ Susie considered.

She didn’t look excited. But I was feeling more enthusiastic. My attempts at remembering my past hadn’t gone so well yesterday, but I wasn’t going to give up on them just because Scott had rattled me.

Susie’s face brightened like a light bulb and she scootched to the edge of her chair. ‘I’ll research the inn with you. But on one condition.’ She paused for dramatic effect. ‘We research its ghosts.’

I pulled a face. My life was creepy enough. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Oh, come on! It’ll be fun. We can research the proper historical stuff too, but let’s at least make part of our presentation entertaining. And you’d find out something about the people who used to live in your inn. What do you say?’

‘I say . . .’ I couldn’t say no, so I shrugged. ‘Sure.’

The rest of the lesson, Miss Webb had us planning our research and drawing up presentation outlines. Susie’s enthusiasm for our project was contagious, and for most of the rest of the hour I almost forgot my concerns. But, as the hour went on, I found my thoughts slipping back to the vanishing boy last night, to Scott watching from his car, to Scott telling me he knew all about me.

‘Susie, can I ask you something?’

‘Yup.’ She looked up from her scribbled notes, and suddenly looked crestfallen. ‘You changed your mind about researching ghosts.’

‘No, the project’s fine. I wanted to ask you about those guys we saw in the corridor yesterday.’

She frowned. ‘What about them?’

‘What do you think of Scott Crowley? His dad works at my inn and Scott spends a lot of time around my house—’

‘Scott goes round your house?’ she interrupted. ‘That’s not good, Liz. You really want to stay out of his way.’

I raised my eyebrows. I hadn’t expected such a strong reaction. ‘Nobody likes him, do they? Is there something I should know?’

She chewed her lip. A long moment passed. ‘Talk to me after class,’ she said.

When the break bell rang, I followed after Susie in a bubble of silence. She looked through each of the classroom doors we passed, until she found an empty room. We both went inside.

I turned to her with wide eyes. I didn’t know what reaction I’d expected to my questions about Scott, but it wasn’t anything as serious as this.

‘Hang on,’ she said. ‘I’m just going to text Matt not to wait for me.’

I nodded and perched on one of the desks at the front of the room, nervous, as if I was the one who’d done something wrong.

A moment later, Susie pulled herself onto the desk opposite mine. Her dark hair framed her face, her features set to serious.

‘You’re going to tell me something really bad, aren’t you?’

‘’Fraid so.’ She sighed. ‘Just so you know, I’m only telling you this ’cause I have to. None of us talk about it any more. But if he’s around your house . . . you need to know.’

I nodded and braced myself.

Susie hunched forwards and tucked her hands into the pockets of her black hoody. ‘It started in year five. When we were in primary school, Scott was a bully. Not the worst kind, he didn’t hit people or anything, but us girls and the nicer boys stayed out of his way.

‘But then, right at the end of year five, he started being really weird. He stopped being so nasty, but he wasn’t nice either. Most of us still stayed away from him, but this one girl, Lucy, didn’t. She let him sit by her, and before we knew it he was giving her these little presents, walking home from school with her, that sort of thing. We were only ten, we all thought he was in love with her.’

I nodded again, unease creeping in my blood like an infection. I didn’t know where this was going, but I didn’t like the set-up.

‘So, one day, right at the beginning of the summer holidays, Scott rang Lucy and invited her to the river to play with him and his mates. Next thing we all hear . . .’ Susie dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘Lucy’s dead. Drowned.’

‘Oh my God.’ I clutched at my locket. ‘You don’t mean Scott . . .?’