Forget Me Never (23 page)

‘Didn’t get to do half the things I wanted to this summer.’ Reece’s eyes were on the kitchen. Two pizzas that looked like they might be ours were coming. ‘I was too
busy chasing gangsters. I blame you.’

‘They weren’t gangsters. How many times do me and your mum have to tell you?’

‘If I say it enough you’ll believe it.’

The pizzas arrived. I picked up a slice, then paused. ‘You know what freaks me out? If I hadn’t happened to find that memory stick that day, things would be a lot different right
now. We wouldn’t be sitting here together, for one thing.’

‘It hurts my head if I think about it too much,’ Reece said, picking up the biggest slice. ‘Eat. That’s easier.’

It definitely was. I smiled at him, thinking that it made a change to feel happy, and Reece smiled back. As I took a mouthful, it struck me that it didn’t feel like the past was looking
over my shoulder any more, bleeding into the present. The past was exactly that – the past. And now I could get on with the future without being afraid.

But I still had one more door I needed to close.

The police were continuing to tie up loose ends. There would be a huge court case somewhere down the line. I was dreading having to testify, especially giving my eyewitness
account of Cherie’s accident. At least the police had found Patrick – they’d actually picked him up the same day they’d found us, trying to get a flight out of Heathrow.
They’d also identified a number of others who’d been involved in the South American drug cartel. Kyle had vanished, but I was happy with that. If it wasn’t for him, I might not be
here now.

I wasn’t sure what would happen to Aiden. He’d probably get a more lenient sentence because of how he’d helped the investigation. I still couldn’t believe he’d told
the police everything of his own accord – but I guessed any amount of money became irrelevant when you were scared for your life. When push came to shove, it seemed his heart hadn’t
been one hundred per cent in it after all.

As for Cherie, she’d admitted to going to the flat and seeing Danielle. It had gone more or less as I’d thought. They’d had a row. Cherie had picked up a knife, intending to
threaten Dani to keep quiet about the trial results, and Dani had backed away and fallen off the balcony. Cherie was pleading manslaughter. Whether she was telling the full truth or not, I would
never know.

By the time I felt emotionally strong enough to go to the cemetery a month had passed. Reece offered to come with me, but I don’t think he was at all surprised by my reply that I had to do
this alone.

The afternoon was bright and warm and still, the sky an expanse of blue. I walked along the main path slowly, carrying a big bouquet of yellow roses. They had been Dani’s favourites.

I found her headstone and stood looking at it. Then I reached down and placed the flowers in front of it.

‘I always knew you didn’t kill yourself,’ I said to her. ‘And if the trial goes right, which I really hope it does, everyone else will too. You probably believed you were
doing the right thing, making the drug more widely available – and when you realized it was wrong, you tried to stop it.’

It was odd – I’d expected this to make me feel good, triumphant even. But all I felt was relief that it was all over.

I spent a good hour by the grave, remembering Dani. I wondered how many people had really known her; too few, I suspected. Her ‘friends’ at Vaughan-Bayard had got her killed, and the
only man she’d ever loved had been manipulating her. It seemed a sad existence for someone I knew to be warm and generous and clever, and who had deserved so much more.

But thanks to the events of this summer and all the good times we’d shared before that, at least I would remember her – and make sure I never forgot.

Once again there are a number of people who’ve helped make
Forget Me Never
happen who deserve big thank-yous. Top of the list are my parents, Sheila and David, who
were part of many epic Help, I’m blocked on book 2 sessions where we batted around ideas and solved problems. Once again, my agent Becky Bagnell and my editor Emma Young, for all their contributions
and professional advice. It goes without saying that thanks are also due to all the lovely people at Macmillan whove helped form the book.

There’s also Matt Davison, who knows more about pharmaceutical drug espionage than he perhaps ought to, and Jenny Dixon, who was my partner in crime for the grand research mission to
Heathrow. Thank you as well to my brother Luke for writing hilarious notes all over my manuscript (he also said he didn’t want a dedication, but is getting it anyway). Given the amount of
time me and my netbook have spent there, I definitely need to give a big thumbs up to the staff at my local Caffè Nero and their excellent soy milk latte-making skills.

And last but not least, thanks to everyone – friends, family, colleagues and readers – who has been so very nice about
Pretty Twisted
. Your enthusiasm and support have been a
big encouragement to me.

Also by Gina Blaxill

First published 2012 by Macmillan Children’s Books

This electronic edition published 2012 Macmillan Children’s Books
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
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ISBN 978-1-4472-3439-5 EPUB

The right of Gina Blaxill to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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