Soul Fire (9 page)

I go onto the landing and look down.

Suspects number 1 and 3.

Instinctively, I dart back, out of sight.

Dad sees my face. ‘I could send them away,’ he whispers, ‘but . . .’

But they’ve come all the way from Greenwich for a reason
, I think. ‘No. I’ll be down in a minute.’

‘Sure. I’ll sort them out a tea or something . . .’ he tails off.

I go into the bathroom, comb my messy hair, splash my face with cold water and when I look up, my eyes are wide. They’re not my friends. So why have they come here?

As I dry my hands, they’re trembling. Whenever Sahara is near me, so is that
fear
. Is this how my sister felt? Perhaps it’s why she started pushing Sahara away.

Deep breaths . . .

‘Hey, you guys,’ I say, forcing a smile onto my face as I head downstairs. ‘What are you doing here?’

They’re in the hall, jackets still on, carrying his ’n’ hers crash helmets.

‘We were on our way to see friends,’ says Ade, ‘in the area. But we wanted to see how you were. After . . .’

‘Oh, God, Alice,’ Sahara cries, opening her puffa-padded arms. Her thin hair has been flattened by the crash helmet, and it’s hard to tell where her skull ends and her hair
begins. ‘How are you coping?’

I submit to the hug for a few moments, before twisting my body out of her grasp. ‘I’m all right. But what about you, Ade? It must have been so shocking.’

He shrugs. In his biker’s leathers, he looks tougher, though he’s still deathly pale. His hair’s swept back like a fighter pilot’s and I wonder yet again why he’s
with Sahara. He’s so much better looking.

Dad appears holding a couple of cups of coffee. ‘Sorry about the delay. Make yourselves comfortable down here. I’m going to get some jobs done in the garage.’ He offloads the
coffees and rushes out.

In the dining room, they unpeel their layers, put their helmets on the table, and sit down. It still makes no sense that they’re here. I didn’t even know that they knew where I
lived.

‘Ade has been more deeply affected than he’s letting on,’ Sahara says. ‘It’s been a very difficult time. We’ve been terrified that the media would make the
connection between him and me and that they’d come after me too.’

My sister’s dead. Tim’s dead. Ade must be traumatised by finding his best mate dead. Yet Sahara still manages to make it all about
her
.

‘How had Tim seemed?’ I ask Ade. ‘Before . . .’

Ade scratches at a patch of imaginary dirt on the visor of his helmet. ‘Low. Paranoid. Well, you spoke to him last year, he was pretty bad then but with the anniversary coming
up—’

‘You spoke to him, Alice?’ Sahara interrupts him. ‘I didn’t think you’d had any contact with him since he killed Meggie. What an odd thing to do.’

She
thinks she’s in a position to tell
me
what odd is?

‘I was desperate to know if he killed my sister.’

‘Well, I think we all know now, don’t we? How desperate you must have been, Alice. I understand why you did it, but . . .’ she turns back to Ade, ‘I can’t believe
you
helped her.
So
irresponsible.’

He looks like a man who’s used to being in the doghouse. ‘Sahara, you know I thought he could be innocent. Until I found him . . . well, dead.’

We stay silent for a moment or two because, guilty or innocent, no one wanted Tim to die the way he did.

I make eye contact with Ade. ‘So now you
do
think he did it?’

He shrugs.

I feel so ashamed making him go back over it, but this has to be done, for Meggie’s sake. ‘How was he acting before that? Was he scared of something?’

Ade shakes his head. ‘There was nothing, Alice. I promise.’

‘Was he drunk? The police said there were bottles.’

‘When I saw him there . . .’ Ade closes his eyes, ‘I panicked. Ripped the bag open, tore at the scarf, in case he was still with us. You know the rest.’

‘The scarf?’

He blinks. ‘That was what he used, a red silk scarf. To tie the bag in place. The police think it was probably Meggie’s though they said they’re trying to keep it out of the
press. He might have kept it as a trophy. They said it’s what killers do. Perhaps
that
was his way of admitting he was responsible.’ Ade shakes his head.

I stare at him. The scarf could implicate Tim. Or it could be the real killer mocking the police, proving they can get away with murder for a second time.

But then again, Meggie never really wore scarves. They’re what older women wear.

None of it makes sense.

Sahara frowns. ‘Alice, this might not be what you want to hear, but what other explanation could there be? Someone broke into the flat, got Tim drunk against his will, faked his suicide
and then got out? Ade was only gone a couple of hours.’ Her voice is gentle; maybe I’ve misjudged her. She might genuinely want to look after me. Or perhaps I simply remind her of my
sister.

‘He sat in the dark.’

Sahara and I both look at Ade.

‘He wouldn’t have the light on. The last few weeks. He seemed to be getting more depressed.’

Because your sister was everything to me, Alice. She lit up my world. She was like the brightest flame, and now the world feels so dark without her
.

I can’t get that last conversation with Tim out of my mind. Even though it was a conversation Sahara thinks I should never have had.

Then I think of something else. ‘Was there anything on the web that could have upset him, sent him over the edge? You know how bitchy people get.’

Sahara’s face doesn’t change, neither does Ade’s. He shakes his head. ‘Not that I know of.’

The hall clock ticks. The coffee’s gone cold.

‘We ought to head off,’ Ade says. ‘To see our friends.’

‘Except there aren’t any friends round the corner, are there?’ I ask. ‘I mean, I understand you wanted to see me. You don’t have to pretend.’

Silence. ‘We’re going . . . to lay flowers on her grave,’ Sahara says eventually. ‘I know there’s no point. She can’t see them. Other people can, though, when
they pass her headstone. It shows she was loved.’

I feel tears pricking at the back of my eyes. I haven’t been back to her grave once, because I can see her every night. But Meggie left a huge hole in Sahara’s life, I see that
now.

‘She knew that,’ I say.

Ade shuffles in his seat. ‘We don’t want to lose touch. Just because . . .’

‘We were a part of her life too, Alice. We won’t forget her. Or you. In time I was hoping you might come to see the two of us as . . . good friends of yours, too. Maybe we can even
help you, as a brother and sister would.’

It’s hard to know how to respond. I had a sister. I don’t need a substitute.

Sahara’s still talking. ‘We can’t replace Meggie, but we are that bit older than you, so if there are things you can’t discuss with your parents, we’re just a call
or a bike ride away.’

I can’t imagine asking her for advice, yet I can tell she’s being sincere.

‘Come on, Saz.’ Ade pats her hand, as though she’s a small girl. ‘Let’s leave Alice to enjoy the rest of her Saturday now.’

‘I do need to go back to my homework,’ I say, feebly.

Sahara stands up. It always surprises me how tall she is. She wants to hug me again and I let her. ‘And don’t forget Ade’s birthday get-together. There’ll be people there
who loved your sister. It could be . . . nice.’

Ade doesn’t hug me, but he smiles sympathetically.

I wave them off at the door and watch them walking back along the close. Sahara forces her helmet over her head, and climbs onto the front of the motorbike. Ade climbs on behind her, his arms
tight around her waist, before Sahara starts up the engine, takes a long last look back at me, then speeds off.

Perhaps I should scrub their names off that stupid suspects list upstairs. Accept it’s doing me no good at all to question everything, and everyone.

And then it occurs to me.
Flowers
. They were going to lay flowers on Meggie’s grave. Yet they weren’t carrying anything, and there’s nowhere to put them on that bike
without them getting crushed.

It’s probably nothing. Maybe they are going to buy some at a garage now.

But even so . . . Maybe I won’t tear my list up just yet.

‘Brother and
sister
? Is that seriously what Sahara said to you?’

I’m beginning to regret telling Cara about my weekend visitors. She’s taking a slightly unhealthy interest.

‘She meant it, Cara. OK, so she’s intense. But she was very sincere.’

‘Sincerely
freaky
, more like. What about
Adrian
?’

Something in the way she says his name makes me look up from my sandwich. ‘How do you know Ade?’

Her cheeks colour. ‘Um. From the funeral.’

‘Bloody hell, Cara.’

The other girls in the common room look at me. I don’t care.

‘Sorry, Alice. Was that, like, completely inappropriate?’

‘No, no. I suppose I’m just
surprised
. I didn’t even know you’d met him.’

She pulls a face. ‘It was the last thing on my mind that day, obviously. But sometimes even if you’re not
looking
, you can’t help but feel a connection with someone. You
can’t explain it, it just happens.’

Like with Danny
. I wasn’t exactly on the pull the first time I saw Meggie’s friends on the Beach, but I felt a connection with Danny all the same. Not that I can share that
moment with my best friend.

Instead I say, ‘At least you didn’t ask me for his phone number at the church.’

‘No, well, obviously even I know that’d be wrong.’ She waits a few seconds. ‘I did
friend
him, though. And guess what? He’s invited me to a party!’

‘A party?’ I stare at her. What the hell would he be having a party for? Then I remember. ‘Oh. His birthday thing. Sahara mentioned it too. But it’s not really a party,
is it? Just a quiet get-together. I mean, his best friend isn’t even buried yet.’

‘Ah. Sorry. I just assumed it was a party . . . On account of it being in this really loud tapas bar in town, and the length of the guest list on Facebook.’ She goes quiet.

I feel stung on Tim’s behalf. But perhaps they’d planned it as a party before Tim died and couldn’t cancel. I try not to think about it. ‘You’re serious about
fancying
Ade?’

‘Why not? He’s cute. That pale, intense look appeals. Especially as I found out this weekend that my darling Sergei has buggered off back to the Ukraine without telling me. I am
never eating chicken Kiev again!’

I never even knew there was a Sergei, but her new crush unsettles me. ‘Ade does have a girlfriend, remember?’

‘Well, Sahara’s no threat, is she? I reckon he’s only seeing her because he’s scared she might beat him up if she’s dumped. But I’m not scared of
her.’

Maybe you should be
. ‘I don’t like this, Cara.’

She shrugs. ‘I totally understand if you don’t fancy coming along. But then again, you are meant to be exploring your wilder side, aren’t you? And don’t you owe it to
your best mate to cheer her up after the sad loss of Sergei?’

Sometimes I can’t tell when she’s serious and when she’s kidding. The bell goes before I get a chance to work it out.

As I walk to Media Studies, I think about it, and realise I’d
like
to go out with Cara anyway. Plus, Mum will think I’m getting back to ‘normal’ which means I
might get my laptop back sooner.

And, most important of all, there’s a chance Ade or Sahara might let their hair down after a few drinks and reveal something useful. I can’t afford
not
to go.

I try to remember the last time I went to a party for fun. It seems like a whole lifetime ago.

On the way home, the sky is dark grey, like the slate rocks that enclose the Beach. I crave sunshine, and Danny.

The wait till four a.m. seems endless. When the time finally arrives, I leap out of bed and downstairs to the laptop.

He’s there, in our place, beyond
our
rock. It’s a ledge of black stone with room for two, just far enough from the rest of the shore to offer that most precious thing: a
little privacy.

‘Hello, beautiful.’

‘Hold me,’ I say. ‘Warm me up.’

His arms around me feel like the only solid thing in my life. ‘Is it so cold where you are?’

‘They’re forecasting snow again, even though it’s spring.’

Danny grips me tighter. ‘Remind me what it’s like to be cold, Alice. How snow feels on your skin.’

I tell him in between kisses, and try to imagine him in the snow. Doing the goofy things couples do in romantic movies: building a snowman, throwing snowballs that are designed to miss, rubbing
noses and feeling his icy skin against mine . . .

It’s hard to picture it at first, because the Danny I know exists only on the Beach, in shorts and t-shirts. I bet he skied, snowboarded. There is so much about him that I don’t know
yet, but we have time to discover everything about each other. At least, I hope we have time.

‘What did you do in winter, Danny?’

‘I skied in all the best resorts. Had the best instructors, best equipment. I was still pretty crap.’

‘Danny! I’m sure you were great.’

‘No, I really wasn’t.’ He scowls. ‘I was a waster.’

I squeeze his arm. ‘It doesn’t matter what you were, what money you had. I love the real you. Just plain Danny.’

He looks as though he wants to say something else, but then he smiles. ‘Oh, Alice. I don’t deserve you,’ he says. ‘But maybe I can be better. For your sake.’

‘Don’t be silly. You’re good enough as you are. Don’t look for problems where there are none. I don’t have any shortage of those in the
real
world, so being
here is all about making the most of you.’

And I focus on the warmth of his body against mine. I must concentrate on the good things. The Beach is a haven, not only for the Guests like Danny and Meggie and Javier, who have suffered so
much, but also for me.

I won’t let it be spoiled.

I’m so out of practice at parties that I have to make a list of what to do: straighten my hair, cover the spots on my chin, curl my eyelashes.