Perfectly Reflected (15 page)

“Please don’t lie to me again, Alex. Can’t I help you?”

I crumpled. It was just too hard, too complicated to keep up the charade with Grace. “I do so want to tell you everything,” I admitted, hiccuping between sobs, “but I don’t think you’re going to believe me and without the bracelet, I’ve got no proof.”

“Try me,” she urged, gently lifting my chin and making me look at her. “It’s me, remember? You can tell me anything.”

The thought of being able to explain, of not having to keep everything secret, was almost overwhelming. I suddenly realised quite how much I hated having to bottle it all up; I wanted her to know, and to understand, everything.

“I don’t know where to start,” I whispered, shoulders slumping.

Grace’s voice became firm. “Well, let’s try with Callum. This isn’t him, is it?” She pointed to the piece of paper that was lying forgotten on my lap.

“No,” I agreed. “It does look a bit like him, though.”

“So there
is
a Callum?”

“Yes, definitely. I just can’t show you a picture of him, and you were getting insistent, so I thought…” My voice petered out, ashamed.

“Why not? Why won’t he have his picture taken? What’s the matter with him?”

“Look, before I tell you, you must promise me something.” I gazed at her through my tears.

“Anything. Just ask.”

“You
have
to believe me. Everything I’m about to tell you is the truth, but a lot of it is – well, weird. And I can’t prove any of it.”

“Try me,” she said, with an encouraging but nervous smile as she sat back on the futon. “Tell me everything.”

“My bracelet – the one that’s been stolen – isn’t just a bracelet. It acts as a kind of key, it lets me— Oh, you’re never going to believe me. It sounds so ridiculous!”

“Calm down. I promised, didn’t I? Come on, just tell me.”

I steeled myself with a deep breath. “Callum is a ghost. He drowned in the River Fleet ages ago.”

Grace’s mouth fell open and she looked at me incredulously for several long seconds. “You see, I said you wouldn’t believe me,” I muttered.

Finally she recovered herself. “Well, you can hardly blame me; it wasn’t exactly what I thought you were going to say, but come on, tell me more. I want to understand.” She was trying hard, I could see that, but the fact that her eyes kept darting away from mine gave her away. She thought I was mad.

“OK, look, I know it sounds crazy. It
is
crazy, in a way, and when I first discovered it, I thought I was losing my mind. But it’s all for real.” Grace’s smile was politely encouraging. She was sitting back in her seat, struggling not to cross her arms. How could I convince her?

“Do you remember that trip to St Paul’s, the one for the art club?”

“Yes,” she said dubiously.

“Do you remember that I said I saw a ghost?”

“I do!” She sat forwards again, wanting to be convinced. “Was that Callum?”

“Yes, that was the first time I saw him, and St Paul’s is the only place where I can see him properly.”

“What happens the rest of the time?”

“I can see him in any mirror, and I can hear him when his amulet – or bracelet – is in the same space as mine. He has an identical one to the one I have, or rather
had
.” My voice caught again as I thought about my loss. “Without the amulet he’s … nowhere. I can’t see him or speak with him.”

“So what’s Catherine’s got to do with all this? Why has she stolen it? What does she know about Callum?”

Where to start? I shut my eyes briefly and tried to work out the best way to tell the story. “Callum isn’t your average ghost,” I began, trying not to notice the sceptical look that flashed across Grace’s face before she composed herself again. I carried on quickly. “Everyone who drowns in the River Fleet gets thrown into some sort of purgatory. There are hundreds of them, and they all wear amulets they can’t take off that make them do certain things. There is one amulet that, and I don’t understand why, lives on our side, in the real world. Every so often it turns up in the River Thames.”

“The bracelet that you dug out of the mud in Twickenham,” Grace confirmed, nodding.

“Yes, and whoever finds it makes a connection with one of the Dirges, and that—”

“The what?”

“Oh, Dirges. That’s what they call themselves. They live in a state of perpetual despair, so it seems apt.”

Grace nodded again, and cupped her chin in her hands as
she rested her elbows on her knees. “OK. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Sorry.”

“No, it’s OK. I know it’s strange – more like a horror story, really.” I paused for a second, shaking my head. “Where was I? Oh yes, when I picked up the amulet it made a connection with Callum. I had a strange vision that night, and I was going to tell you but you fell asleep. Then we went to St Paul’s, and he was actually there! I don’t know which of us was more surprised. Once he knew where to find me he would appear behind me in the mirror. The first time was a bit scary – actually it was a
lot
scary – and it took him a few days to work out how to talk to me, but then he did. We’ve been talking ever since, and we just fell in love.” I paused, trying to contain my grief. Grace took my hand and squeezed it gently.

Looking at her gratefully, I carried on. “What I didn’t know was that the Dirges can use my amulet to escape from their horrible lives. If someone on this side wears it, and then takes it off but keeps it near them, they can be found by a Dirge, attacked, and all of their memories stolen. And if that happens, you die and they use your memories to escape purgatory. We thought that meant they just died properly, but it turns out that they get the chance to come back to life. Catherine was a Dirge, and she stole all of my memories, nearly killing you in the process.”

I could see Grace trying to make sense of all the information. “Is that what happened in Kew Gardens?” she asked, trying to keep the edge of accusation out of her voice.

“Uh-huh. It’s a much longer story, but what’s important is that Catherine stole all my memories and left me for dead. Callum was able to save me. He copied all my memories as she stole them and the second you put the amulet back on my wrist in the hospital,
he was able to download them all back into me. It was a close call.”

Grace was considering the carpet, her chin still in her hands. Swallowing nervously, I pressed on. “Catherine is now alive and is using all the memories she stole to do all the stuff with Geeky Graham and Abbi, clear out my bank account, everything. What I don’t know is
why
she’s doing it, why she hates me so much.”

“So that weird accident was all because of her?”

I nodded. “She’s determined to cause trouble.”

“Have you got a picture of her? From the bank?”

“They were going to e-mail me a still from the video, but I don’t know if they’ve done it yet.”

“Can you look now?”

It seemed an odd request, but I quickly opened up my laptop and logged on to my e-mail account. I hadn’t been on it all day, so there was a lot of junk, but in the middle was an e-mail from Oliver, the technical guy at the police station. Grace hovered behind me as I opened the attached image. He had captured the moment when Catherine looked up at the camera and gave that hideous smug smile. I heard a gasp from Grace.

“No, it can’t be!” She started to pace up and down my small bedroom, shaking her head.

“What is it? Do you recognise her?”

“This really is all true? Everything you’ve been telling me? Dead people and reflections and stealing memories?”

“Every word, Grace. Have you seen Catherine before?”

The face that turned to me was stricken. “In Kew Gardens. I saw her just before I collapsed. I thought that it was a weird hallucination, so I didn’t mention it to you. Are you really telling me that she was
dead
then?”

I nodded mutely.

“And now she’s come back to life?” I nodded again.

Grace suddenly sat down on the futon with an uncharacteristic thump. “This is too much.” She put her head in her hands.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’ve just dumped all this on you in one go, and it’s a lot to take on board. I had weeks to get used to it. Why don’t you just sit there for a minute and I’ll make us a cup of tea, or something. For the shock.” I was babbling a bit, it was the relief at having got all this stuff off my chest at last. I jumped to my feet, forgetting about my injuries. “Owwww!” Grace looked up in alarm, then her expression turned to one of concern.

“Don’t move, Alex. You should keep still. I really need some air so I’ll bring us some tea on the way back, OK?”

“OK. Just don’t tell Josh anything, will you? He knows it was Catherine who attacked me, but not about the rest of it.”

She snorted. “Well, it’s hardly the kind of thing I’d suddenly drop into conversation, is it?”

“No, I suppose not.” But I was talking to the closing door; Grace had already left the room.

I sat back in my chair and tried to ignore the thumping in my head. My hand moved to my empty wrist. “I gave away your secret, Callum, I hope you don’t mind. I just can’t do this alone any more; it’s too hard.”

When Grace reappeared, she was full of questions, so I spent the next hour telling her everything that had happened, with all the details. It was such a relief to be able to talk about it all with someone, and someone who, as far as I could tell, truly believed what I was saying. But it couldn’t solve my biggest problem: how to find Catherine and get my amulet back. I also realised that I was physically drained. I was finding it harder and
harder to think of the answers to all Grace’s questions. Eventually I had to stop her.

“Grace, I’m so pleased to tell you all this at last. You’re my best friend, and I’ve hated keeping secrets from you.”

“I just wish I’d mentioned the hallucination sooner, then you wouldn’t have had to do everything on your own for so long.”

I smiled briefly. “The thing is, I’m exhausted, and I can’t think straight. I’m going to have to rest now.”

“Oh, Alex, I’m sorry! I’ve been asking so many questions. How are the bruises?”

“Well, just to add to the mess my face is in, I’ve got a lump the size of an egg above my ear and some spectacular marks down my arm.” I pulled up my sleeve and Grace gave an audible gasp. The red welts had darkened, and there was a visible outline of the club head just below the shoulder.

“Alex, you really should go to the police. You were lucky she didn’t kill you.”

“I can’t, Grace! What am I going to tell them? She knows so much about me that she’d just twist everything and I don’t want to risk getting into any more trouble. No, I have to sort this out myself.”

“Not completely by yourself, Alex. I’m here, and I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Are you sure you want to get involved? It’s dangerous.”

“You need help, and I’m your best friend. That’s what best friends do.”

“Thanks, Grace, I really, really appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry, babe, I shouldn’t have stayed so long, you must be in a lot of pain.”

I squeezed her hand briefly. “It’s been so good to talk to
you at last, but I do have a splitting headache, despite the pills, and I think I need to get to bed.” I took a deep breath and looked directly at her. “Don’t tell anyone about this, will you?” I gestured with my good arm towards the bruises. “I really don’t want to have to explain myself to everyone.”

She hesitated for just a fraction of a second before replying. “Sure, whatever you want. You’re going to have to tell people something, though; you aren’t going to be your usual gorgeous self overnight.”

I swivelled around in my chair and looked at myself in the mirror. All the time I had been staring into it before I had been searching for Callum, so I hadn’t taken too much notice of my face. The skin was scraped off my cheekbone, and despite my efforts to clean it earlier a few little bits of grit were still sticking to the torn skin. Nothing was bleeding heavily, but it was beginning to seep and my lip had a large scab on it. I picked up a tissue and pressed it gently to my face, gritting my teeth as I did so. When I peeled it off, I could see that a large bruise was forming lower down my cheek. Grace was right: I looked a mess, and I was going to continue to look a mess for a while.

“I look appalling! I’ll have to say I’m sick tomorrow and give it time to calm down a bit.” A large sigh escaped me before I could catch it, and Grace looked at me sympathetically.

“You’re still going to need a cover story,” she reminded me gently.

“I told the lady next door that I’d been pulled over by the puppy and got my hands too tangled up in the lead to be able to stop myself falling.”

Grace considered that for a moment, pursing her lips and unconsciously highlighting her own perfect cheekbones.
“That’ll probably do. You need to make sure that Josh knows the story, too. You don’t want him telling your parents what really happened while they’re still away. Can you imagine what they’d do?”

“No – well, what I mean is, yes, I can. It wouldn’t be good. I’ll make sure he keeps schtum.”

“Good. OK, I’m going to go now. Call me when you feel up to it and I’ll come round; you’re going to need some lessons in camouflage make-up.” She hugged me tightly, inadvertently squeezing my bruised arm and it took all my strength not to cry out in pain.

“Thanks for coming round, Grace,” I finally managed to gasp. “And thank you for listening. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I heard her talking briefly to Josh before the front door closed, and I sat back on my bed, my head pounding. Glancing at my watch I realised it was time to take another couple of the strong painkillers, but they still only dulled the pain a little. And that was only the physical pain; the pain and anger in my heart were going to be much harder to shift.

My miserable thoughts were suddenly disturbed by my phone erupting into life. I automatically checked the number before I answered, but it had been withheld. I hesitated for another ring, then pressed the green button.

“Hello?” I said firmly.

The now-familiar voice was crystal clear. “I just wanted to congratulate you on your very nifty manoeuvre this afternoon. I mean, really, you ought to be in intensive care right now.”