Authors: C. J. Flood
The number ended 999, and I remembered: Charlie Fielding. Someone
not
to call in an emergency. I’d deleted her years ago, but she evidently hadn’t deleted me.
NOT JUST STALKERS BUT KILLERS NOW TOO
Chase had died!? What was she talking about? It couldn’t be true. I breathed in the clean, soapy smell of Joey’s hair, trying not to freak out, but my heartbeat was like something outside of my body, like being walloped with a stick every other second. Ti had started the fire? Is that what Charlie meant? It wasn’t possible. But Ophelia . . .
Last time Will had dumped her, she’d thrown a book he’d bought her through his bedroom window. It was the Philip Pullman trilogy, a thick dark green hardback, and it had smashed straight through. Ophelia had got her first caution from the police and was banned from ever going round there again, even though she’d been friends on-and-off with Charlie for years.
That whole cracked night Ti had followed her sister around, unable to talk her down or get her home, but unwilling to leave either. She’d been with her every second, witnessed every moment, and when I asked why she hadn’t stopped her, she’d got mad.
‘I couldn’t, obviously,’ she said. ‘
Obviously
I tried.’
But Charlie hadn’t said Ophelia. She’d said Ti. I wanted to call Fab back, but less than two minutes had passed since we had spoke and I was so angry with him for hurting Ti that I didn’t know what I’d say. My legs itched and my heart juddered. I had to do something.
I still knew Charlie’s home number off by heart.
There were a few rings, then someone answered; only it wasn’t someone answering, but a snooty recording asking me to leave my details.
‘I need a lift!’ I called out, putting my phone in my pocket, and dashing upstairs to where a damp Dad was whispering with Mum. ‘Dad?
Please
. I need a lift.’
I was half shouting, half crying, and Dad stood straight away, scooping his keys off the
Flushing Packet
, which lay open on the bed.
FIRE AT FAIRFIELDS
was the headline. Mum squeezed his hand, and he leant down to kiss her cheek.
‘Come
on
,’ I said, unable to appreciate the moment of affection between them in my panic.
Thirty-four
Will Fielding knew something. He had to. I bit at my lip, wishing Dad would go faster as we drove along Castle Road, noticing traces of the storm Kiaru and me had watched coming in. A tree had fallen near the castle car park, and there were leaves and twigs all over the road. At the top of the hill, where the cliff was too steep for houses, police tape covered a huge hole in the trees and hedgerow.
‘Jesus,’ Dad said.
A car had gone over the edge of the cliff. Black skids marked the road and splintered trunks showed their milky insides. Dad didn’t slow down, and I knew we were both thinking of Ti.
I avoided looking at Kiaru’s house as we approached Charlie and Will’s, tried not to remember his kiss and how I’d liquefied, because where had Ti been then? Calling my mobile again and again? I didn’t allow myself even a glance. Until I knew Ti was safe I wouldn’t think of him.
The Fieldings’ house was buttery yellow brick with huge feature windows and a balcony along the front, and Sophie was unpacking shopping from their gold Mitsubishi in the drive when we pulled in. Looking to see who had arrived, her expression fell, as though she had expected someone more important.
‘Rosie!’ she called, recovering fast. ‘How are you holding up? Dreadful news about Ms Chase this morning, isn’t it? Did you hear? She took a turn for the worse, and they’ve moved her into intensive care. She went in to try to save something, silly woman, and got trapped inside. It was touch and go for a moment there. Char is beside herself. She’s buying a card and flowers as we speak. We were there when the firemen pulled her out, you know. Unrecognizable. Poor woman.’
Dad gave Sophie a severe look, but she was oblivious. Relief flooded through me that Chase was alive, and I sent up thanks as Sophie shouted to Will.
‘Empty the boot of shopping please, as well, before you disappear upstairs again,’ she said coldly, as Will appeared, looking confused to see my face. ‘Mimi’s almost here.’
At the name I had a flash of Charlie’s grandmother: linen suits and backcombed hair. At one of Charlie’s sleepovers years ago she’d shouted ‘sex’ when taking our photo, and Charlie, Mia and me had fallen about laughing. I still had a copy of the picture somewhere, the three of us leaning on each other and hysterical in pastel pyjamas. A different me.
‘I won’t stand any more bother on account of you today, young man.’
Will closed his eyes slowly, as though one more word from his mother might make them burst from his head, and he seemed tense, unlike the way he was at school. He had a cut across his right cheek, and a fat lip, and his hair was more like a banana pancake than a Mr Whippy. He held himself very straight like he’d never met me, though we’d spent hours together as kids.
‘What’s up?’ he said, and I saw scratches on his neck too, as though he’d fallen from a tree, though you couldn’t imagine him climbing one. He didn’t bother to hide the fact that he wanted me to leave.
‘Have you seen Ophelia?’ I said, and Will’s eyes flicked over my shoulder, spooked.
‘
Christ’s sake
,’ he hissed. ‘Don’t mention that name round here. Her dad only just left; he was up here shouting his mouth off again. Mum nearly had to call the police.’
Dad’s engine hummed at the end of the drive, and I could see him through the windshield, listening to Sophie with a grim expression.
‘So you haven’t seen her?’
‘Not since last night, no. Why does everyone keep asking me that? She was going off on one before the show. Usual craziness.’
He stepped out from the doorstep to begin unloading the boot, like he didn’t want me examining him too closely. I hadn’t talked to him one-on-one for years, and I might have been intimidated if I couldn’t remember him as a little boy. He was a total show-off like Charlie, always singing or dancing or clowning around. Once, when he was eight or nine, he’d shown us how a boy could hide his willy between his legs so it looked like he was a girl. Following him to the car now, I held that in my mind, refusing to be discouraged by his unfriendliness.
‘What happened to your face?’
‘I walked into a door.’
‘Pffff. What about the scratches on your neck?’
‘The cat did it; she never learned to put her claws in.’
‘Will, I know you were a couple.’
‘We were not a
couple
. The girl’s delusional.’
‘Well, you were something.’
‘What’s with all the amateur sleuthing all of a sudden? Is it the latest craze for teenage girls?’
‘Look, I don’t care about you and Ophelia, I’m worried about Ti.’
‘The whole family’s insane. Bloody Italians. Don’t know how I ever put up with her.’
He breathed slowly out of his nose in a way I associated with Kiaru’s dusty attic room and meditation. He was nervous.
Sophie breezed past us, smelling of soap and perfume. She ruffled my hair as she passed, and I realized Charlie must never have told her about the gravy incident after all. ‘We all miss you round here, Rosie. Come up and see us one day, hey? This fire’s been a real blow for Char, right in the middle of the finale too. You know what a sucker she is for the spotlight, and she
adores
Ms Chase. She could do with a friend, someone understanding and kind like you . . . Someone who’ll bring out her softer side.’
Her voice changed to businesslike as she shifted her attention to Will.
‘You can put it all away as well please, William. And don’t go anywhere because we’re all sitting down for lunch, no arguments.’
Sophie headed up the stairs, and Will pulled the last bags from the boot, shaking his head.
‘You seem like you’re acting very strange to me, Will. I think you know something. Ti and Ophelia didn’t go home last night, neither of them, and I got two weird text messages off your sister this morning.’
‘She thinks Ti started the fire, that’s why. She reckons she saw her on school grounds or something. Probably another smear campaign. Girls are mental.’
‘Just call me if you hear anything, that’s all I want. I won’t get you into trouble. I’m just looking for Ti.’
He looked at me like I was mental too, then walked into the house laden with shopping.
‘No good?’ Dad said, as I threw myself against the passenger seat, then struggled with my seat belt.
He put the car into reverse. ‘What awful news about your teacher, Rosie. I’m sorry Sophie sprang it on you like that; we wanted to tell you about the latest developments a bit more gently.’
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t think about it yet. How was she doing? And what had she been going in to save?
‘I’m sure she’ll be all right,’ he said, though he didn’t sound sure at all. Times like this I wished my dad was better at performing.
We pulled out of the Fieldings’ drive and on to Castle Road, and I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to be reminded by Kiaru’s house of how badly I’d deserted Ti. Had she really been on school grounds last night? We must have missed each other by seconds.
‘Those tyre tracks we saw were to do with Sophie, apparently. Someone stole her car, joyriders, she reckons, ’cause the keys were still in her handbag.’
I could feel him examining me, and I bet he wanted to ask if Ti or Ophelia knew how to hotwire a vehicle.
‘You look pale, Rosie. It is a bit much, this, isn’t it? Let’s get you home, eh?’
‘This never would have happened if you hadn’t kept us apart,’ I said very quietly.
‘
Rosie
,’ Dad said, reaching for my hand, but I crossed my arms tight across my chest, staring blindly out the passenger window. The car stayed where it was for a few seconds, poised on Castle Road, about to drive off, and I could feel Dad looking at me, but I wouldn’t turn his way.
‘Ti’s dad hit her last night, and she wanted to come over. But she didn’t know if she was allowed,’ I said, staring at the fir trees around Will’s house. ‘If anything’s happened to her, I’ll never forgive you.’
I wouldn’t forgive myself either, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
Behind us a car beeped, and Dad lifted the clutch. The tiny green fingers of the fir trees rippled in the wind, and I squeezed my arms to my ribcage.
Will was hiding something, it was obvious. All I had to do was find out what.
Thirty-five
Joey was waiting at the kitchen table for us when we got back. He looked up when we arrived, thumbs flicking wildly over his handheld computer.
‘Mum says to go straight up,’ he said, his game pausing with a ping.
‘You stay here, Joe. Finish your go,’ Dad said, and that was when I really felt it because Dad never encouraged Joey to play computer games; he was expecting the worst too. ‘Actually make us all a cup of tea, eh? I’ll give you a quid.’
‘My rates have gone up with inflation, that will be one pound fifty in total,’ Joey said, without looking from his screen.
‘Don’t push it, Joe,’ Dad snapped.
Joey slapped his computer down on his lap, blue eyes drilling into Dad’s and his mouth working, but I could hardly pay attention to him. I was struggling myself. When had it become so hard to untie plimsolls? My fingers trembled, and I couldn’t get a handle on the laces.
‘Here,’ Dad said, bending down to undo them for me.
Joey gawped at me like I was trying to pull my actual feet off. A feeling of catastrophe had covered me, and I couldn’t shake it. Walking up the stairs, I made promises to myself and the world and Ti. If she was all right, I would always face up to things. If she was all right, I’d stop telling lies. Most of all, if she was all right, I’d be a better friend. I wouldn’t abandon her again.
As soon as I saw Mum’s face I knew my fear was founded.
‘Sit down,’ she said, patting the bed, and Dad took my hand automatically, as though he were the one delivering the news, and I realized that whatever it was he knew already.
‘I’m so sorry, Rosie . . . Ti’s and Ophelia’s clothes have been found on the beach at Durgan. Their wallets were there. Money, bank cards. Everything.’
I was shaking my head, and I wished Joey was here, because I needed someone to be brave for.
‘There was a bottle of whisky nearby, half empty. The police think they might have drunk it and gone for a swim . . . I’m so sorry, baby, it looks like they might have got into trouble. Come here. Come here. It’s okay. It’s okay. Shhhhh.’
I heard cups rattling on a tray and then Joey’s voice trembling as he asked what had happened. Dad whispered to Joey, and I knew he must be afraid but I couldn’t look up from where I’d buried my face in the crook of Mum’s neck. It was hot and wet from my tears, but I couldn’t let go.
Mum held her me-free arm out, and Joey burrowed in for a cuddle while she whispered in his ear. I don’t know what Dad was doing, but Joey held my hand.
‘Ti’s all right,’ he said after a few minutes of this, though he looked panicked as he spoke. ‘She’s a strong swimmer.’
‘She is,’ I said, because it was true. I loved my little brother.
‘We don’t know anything for sure yet, Joe,’ Dad said in the tone he used when he was trying to discourage him from getting his hopes up, and I felt bitterness creep through my blood like a disease. If they hadn’t taken my phone, I could have helped her.
Climbing off the bed, everything seemed uncertain suddenly: my legs, the world, my life.
‘Where you going, Rosie? Don’t be on your own,’ Mum said.
I stumbled down the stairs, misjudging the distance and number of steps and twisting my ankle. Dad called to see if I was all right but I ignored him. Let him think I was hurt. I was. More than I could explain.
Lying in the sunlight at the end of my bed, I tried to pick through all the new information, but I couldn’t get it straight. Ti wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be. She’d called me last night. I’d heard her voice!
If Ti were dead I’d feel it, like an earthquake. I’d feel it psychically, and I didn’t.
Joey was right: she was a good swimmer. She loved and respected the sea. She’d never go into rough water like that at Durgan, no matter how upset or drunk she was. Never. But then why had her clothes and wallet been found? And where was she?