Authors: Gina Blaxill
‘Life is sometimes a bit crap,’ I said, not meeting his eyes. ‘I feel sad and angry a lot of the time, and sometimes I don’t even know why. That makes it tough to be
around people – and for people to be around me. And those I do feel I can be with always seem to leave me. My cousin . . .’ For a second I felt a lump in my throat. ‘Well, she
understood me. And now she’s dead. Sometimes I look at what I have and it seems there’s nothing good.’
Finn looked as though he didn’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry. That’s harsh.’
‘I don’t have anyone left now,’ I said. Afraid I was going to embarrass myself by crying, I dabbed at my eye – and heard a giggle. To my horror I saw that we
weren’t alone. Zoe and her friends were coming up, holding their phones and laughing.
‘Were you filming that?’ I demanded, though I already knew the answer. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Finn disappearing into the house.
‘An Oscar-worthy performance – so moving! I was having trouble holding my phone straight I was shaking so much.’ Zoe paused. ‘Poor little Sophie, such a tragic life, no
one to confide in, so much pain! No wonder you dress like a tramp!’
My legs were shaking and for a moment I thought they’d buckle. It felt as if I was about to fall to pieces – and then all my emotions turned into burning anger. I had never done
anything to Zoe! How dare she pick on me, make my life more hellish, when it was bad enough already?
I realized I was holding the remains of my drink. I hurled it at Zoe. It splashed across her top, and she screamed. Taking advantage of her surprise, I plunged forward and grabbed her phone. It
was a swish new pink iPhone, and that was all I took in before I threw it across the garden. It slammed into the wall and clattered to the ground. Amazingly, it still seemed to be in one piece. I
reached it before Zoe could and brought my heel down, hard.
‘Screw your video and screw you, Zoe!’ I shouted, shoving her away from me. What I might have done next I don’t know – because that’s when I realized that one of
Zoe’s bitchy friends was still filming me. Horrified, I ran into the house and out through the front door. No one noticed me – they were having too much of a good time. I took off my
shoes and made for home, tears streaming down my face.
On Monday at school I found out that the video of me smashing Zoe’s phone had been uploaded on to YouTube. It was all across Facebook too – cleverly edited so it
looked as if I was randomly lashing out. What had gone before I’d flipped, with me confessing to Finn how crap I felt, had been cut. Everywhere I went, people seemed to be laughing and even
reciting some of the stuff I’d said. I wanted to fade away. It was useless trying to explain why I’d gone for Zoe. Who was going to listen – let alone understand? And I’d
thought my life couldn’t get any worse.
Not everyone was horrible – Paloma and her friends were outraged, and a couple of others came up to me and said Zoe deserved it. Many people simply didn’t care. Finn actually
apologized about running back into the house instead of sticking up for me. He was clearly embarrassed, and somehow I knew we wouldn’t be speaking again. Nothing could make the humiliation go
away.
I kept thinking, If only I hadn’t been to the party. If only I hadn’t been lonely enough to latch on to Finn like that. This was Reece’s fault! He’d said he’d be
there – he’d have looked out for me. Stuff dressing up and trying to fit in – I’d only managed to make myself more of an outsider than ever.
To top it all, the answer to where Reece had been on Saturday night was on his Facebook page. One of his Berkeley friends had uploaded a photo album showing a whole bunch of them out on the
town. It looked like they’d been in a cocktail bar. Since when had Reece even liked cocktails or looked old enough to get into a bar? Some posh-looking girls had been there too, and a
particularly pretty one had managed to get photographed with her arm around Reece. Even though I knew people always got in close to pose for the camera, it stung. Maybe there was something going on
with them. And why not? She was gorgeous and obviously liked him – if Reece was interested, I guessed it would make sense. He clearly wasn’t interested in
me
.
All of this just smacked home the fact that he had a new life now, one I didn’t fit into. It was time we called it quits.
That had happened about three months ago and it still tore me up. I was afraid of starting in the sixth form because of it – Zoe’s behaviour at Brent Cross told me
she wasn’t going to let things be. I wondered if Reece had seen the video clips – I’d assumed so, but now I wasn’t so sure. Had I been wrong to blame him for what had
happened between us? I had been pushing him away by making things difficult for him with his new mates, and he had sent me texts I’d ignored. He’d hurt me – but now I’d hurt
him.
Was it too late to give each other another chance?
An hour and forty minutes later and I was walking out of Bournemouth station. I took in the scene outside; distinctive yellow taxis, people with wheelie cases, zebra crossings.
As I waited for a bus to the town centre, I sketched out a plan. It was past midday; I’d get a sandwich and walk to the flat where Dani had died. The friend who owned it, Fay, was back from
her travelling now – I’d sent her a Facebook message saying I might pop by. Perhaps being there might trigger a memory; perhaps I might find something, a vital piece of evidence
everyone had overlooked, to prove once and for all whether Dani was murdered.
Clutching at straws – but straws were all I had.
It was about two by the time I reached Fay’s flat. I could feel my steps dragging as I got near.
I didn’t know if I wanted to be where Dani died. Here, so close to where her body had been found, I couldn’t hide any longer. For all I’d been talking about Danielle recently,
I still didn’t think I’d fully grasped the fact that she was gone. I swallowed, wondering if the bad taste in my mouth was fear or lunch disagreeing with me. For a moment I wasn’t
sure if I could do it. Then I told myself I had to.
I pressed the entryphone by the main door and felt a chill run up my spine as I realized this was exactly what Aiden had done. Fay answered, the door buzzed and I stepped in.
The lift was out of service – it had been back then too. I stared at the sign. It felt eerie, as though nothing had moved on.
Fay was waiting at the door when I arrived. I’d never met her before – Dani knew her from college, though Fay looked several years older. She had a chunky build and very long brown
hair, but the most striking thing about her was the pendant around her neck. It was about the size of my palm and reminded me of the engraved wax letter seals used in medieval times. Certainly a
statement piece, I thought.
‘Hi, Sophie,’ Fay said. ‘Good to meet at last. Come on in. Can I get you a drink? You must be parched; it’s boiling out there. Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the
midday sun, as the song goes.’
I wasn’t sure what she was on about, so I just stepped inside. There was a funny smell in the air which reminded me of the design and technology corridor at school. I went through to the
living area. Instantly it swept me back; I could see Danielle at the table by the window, laying out the breakfast cereals, Danielle by the CD rack, telling us about all the albums Fay had,
Danielle putting one in and dancing along to it. I could even remember the night I’d slept on the sofa bed, lying on my side, listening to the distant waves.
After a moment I realized things were different after all. It was messier, for one thing, and the shelves were a lot more cluttered, mostly with semi-precious rocks and dowsing crystals. How
many does Fay need? I wondered. It’s crystal overload here. Dani would have agreed. She might have been a bit of an oddball, but she wasn’t oddball enough to believe in this stuff
– she never went into New Age shops. And yet . . . I frowned. Something was hovering at the edge of my mind, something that didn’t feel right . . .
Fay came in from the kitchen with a glass of lemonade. She went over to the table and switched off a soldering iron; it looked like she’d been doing some kind of metalwork, which explained
the smell.
‘Good journey?’ she asked.
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure what to say now I was here. Luckily Fay seemed to understand.
‘I’ve got a few of Danielle’s things, if you want them,’ she said. ‘Nothing much – a hairbrush, some earrings. Wouldn’t have felt right chucking
them.’ She paused. ‘Do you want to be alone for a bit?’
I nodded gratefully. Fay went into the kitchen, closing the door, and I heard the noise of pans being moved about.
Slowly I moved around, letting the memories flood back. For one short weekend, so much had happened. Eventually I reached the balcony doors. They were open. I felt a soft breeze flutter over me.
I breathed deeply, looking out at the beautiful sea view.
There wasn’t much on the balcony – just a few flower pots and a sunlounger. The iron railings around it weren’t as high as I remembered – they really didn’t seem
very safe. Or maybe I was only thinking that because of what happened.
Summoning all my courage, I edged forward and looked down.
Below was the tarmac path that wound along the cliffside park. Further down it a man was cycling and there were two teenagers with a German Shepherd on a lead. The path was clearly well-used and
yet no one aside from one eyewitness had seen Dani fall. At least being in a public place meant her body hadn’t lain there for long.
I turned to face the doors and backed away until I could feel the railings against my legs. The eyewitness had said that no one else had been on the balcony when Dani fell – one reason why
it had seemed too fanciful to think it might have been murder – but what if Dani had seen something the eyewitness couldn’t? Something, or someone, that she’d backed away from
quickly. I knew for a fact she’d gone backwards – that had always struck me as wrong for a suicide. But what could she have seen? What could have scared her so much?
In the kitchen Fay was finishing washing up. I placed my empty glass down on the draining board.
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I’ll be off now.’
‘Did you find what you needed?
I shook my head. The backing away from something was just a theory – I needed to mull it over. ‘Did you speak to Dani the week before it happened?’
‘Afraid not. I was off backpacking.’
‘Do you think she killed herself?’
Fay gave me a sympathetic look. ‘What’s the alternative? She wasn’t careless enough to have an accident.’
To my horror I felt tears of frustration well in my eyes. I made for the door with a mumbled goodbye. Fay caught my shoulder.
‘Hey, Sophie. I’m not letting you leave like this.’
I found myself gently but firmly sat down on the couch.
Fay pulled up a chair. ‘You didn’t just come here to say goodbye to Dani, did you?’ she said.
I made a non-committal sound.
Fay leaned forward. ‘Danielle may not have mentioned it, but I’m a trained hypnotherapist,’ she said. ‘That means I use hypnosis in the treatment of emotional and mental
issues – which covers pretty much anything. Allergies, stress, insomnia, you name it.’ She paused. ‘Including bereavement. So if you want to talk . . . I listen to people’s
problems all the time.’
That explained the crystals and candles then. It sounded so tempting, and Fay had a very kind face. ‘Don’t like the sound of being hypnotized,’ I said hesitantly.
‘It’s actually a natural state, but if you’d prefer to just talk, let’s do it that way. Whatever you’re comfortable with.’
‘I can’t let go of Dani,’ I began, trying to think how I could word this and not sound insane. ‘Everyone thinks I’m just being stubborn, but I’ve got such a
strong gut instinct about her death.’
I filled her in on everything I’d found out so far, including about what was going on at Vaughan-Bayard. The only thing I skimmed over was how I’d been threatened. I didn’t
need her to tell me off about getting into something this dangerous. ‘I can’t go back to normal until this is settled,’ I finished, ‘but I don’t know what to do about
it – only that I’ve got to see it through!’
The tears, which I’d done such a good job holding back, spilt down my cheeks. Fay handed me a tissue. Softly she asked, ‘Why is it so important to you to get to the bottom of
this?’
‘Because no one else will! They’ve written Dani off! I hate her being branded as this crazy unstable person. I
know
she didn’t take her medication, I
know
she had mood
swings, I
know
she got depressed. But that doesn’t explain her death!
‘Is this just about Dani? Or is it about you too?’
I gulped. ‘I . . .’
‘What are you afraid of, Sophie?’
‘That I’ll end up like her!’ The words came rushing out. Worried I’d gone too far I quickly looked at Fay, but she hadn’t even flinched. Very calmly she said,
‘And why do you think that might happen?’
‘It’s a cycle. My mum was really flaky. Dani’s too. That was why I was taken into care – my mum just couldn’t handle normal life.’ I paused. ‘When Dani
died people made out she was the same, like it was genetic or something. They didn’t say – but I know they think it – that I’m going to turn out that way too. Depressed.
Unstable. I mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it?’ Bitterness was creeping into my voice. ‘Mum, Dani, my aunt, me – four headcases. I do crazy stuff already. It’s only a
matter of time.’
‘You don’t feel you’ve been given a chance to prove you’re different?’
That was exactly it; I was so relieved Fay understood. ‘You know the worst thing?’ I whispered. ‘I can rant all I like, but . . . I have this niggling fear that won’t go
away . . . that they might be right.’
It was only as I said the words that I realized this was it – the deep, dark fear that had been obsessing me.
‘
You’re
in control of your future, Sophie.’ The way Fay said it, I almost believed her.
‘It’s never just been about putting the record straight about Dani.’ I blew my nose. ‘See, I’m not that good, Fay. I’m not one of those . . . those gutsy
teenage detectives who’ll risk life and limb just to solve a mystery. If it was only about finding the truth, maybe I’d give up. Don’t get me wrong, I’m scared – but
I’m more scared of the alternative. All my life people think they know who I am before they even meet me. I want to find out who I am myself.’