Authors: Louise Stone
‘I don’t care who’s around.’ She walked calmly to the window, lifted the lever and pushed it open. The fly,
barely alive, responded to the rush of air and flew drowsily outside.
Perspiration clung to his upper lip as he watched her close the window once more. He rubbed the base of his back with his shirt, stopping a trickle of sweat in its tracks.
‘I’ll call security,’ he eventually said.
She laughed: hollow, disbelieving. ‘No, you won’t.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ His voice cracked involuntarily. ‘I’m well within my rights to call security, now that I’ve asked you to leave.’
She curled her lips. ‘I’ll tell them what you did.’
His heart hammered in his chest. ‘I didn’t do anything.’ He glanced at the necklace, at the cross.
She caught his look and frowned. ‘You don’t seem to realise what you’ve done.’
‘I shouldn’t have allowed anything to happen. I knew it was as much a mistake then, as I do now.’
‘Then why do you look at me like that? Even with the others here, I see you looking at me, I can feel your eyes on me.’
Fear pricked his skin; a wave of goose bumps travelled across his arms and the length of his back. She moved toward him and placed a hand at the base of his neck, her fingers softly massaging his hairline.
‘Please get off,’ he whispered hoarsely, his eyes briefly closing and giving in to her touch. ‘Please.’
‘Gareth.’ She continued to ply his skin with increasing urgency as she shifted forward once more, her breasts grazing his shirt. ‘You want me. You want this again.’
His breathing came hard and fast. ‘Get off.’ He couldn’t touch her. He knew he couldn’t touch her. ‘Get off.’
‘Gareth.’ She brought her lips toward his and lingered above his mouth, her breath sweet – the smell of cheap candy – enticingly close. ‘Gareth.’ She brushed her lips
against his and he stumbled backward toward the desk, his hand knocking the penholder – a gift from his daughter, made at school – to the ground. He looked desperately at the broken clay shards, back at her.
‘No. No. No,’ he gasped. ‘Get out.’
She didn’t move, her face twisted with fury and hate. Any thoughts he’d had of her face reflecting a youthful lightness were tainted forever.
‘Get out,’ he said again, pleading.
She nodded slightly and moved toward the door. Turning, she looked back at him.
‘You will regret this. You’ll lose your job. You’ll lose everything.’ Her hand inadvertently touched the tattoo and she rubbed it: an indelible reminder of their affair. ‘You will regret this.’
She turned the key and, pushing her shoulders back, left. The door remained wide open.
He waited, his ragged breath echoing in his ears. Believing he was now safe, he strode to the door and slammed it shut, turning the key once more. He stumbled to the sofa and sat, elbows on his knees, his hands over his face. Warm tears soaked his skin.
He wanted to tell himself that it would blow over, that her words were empty, unthinking. He couldn’t. Instead, his mind was racked by an image of her naked body lying on the hotel bed, the smell of coconut on her skin, limbs tangled in damp sheets.
ONE
Truth or dare. That had been the choice.
Keira Sullivan stood halfway up the hill, balancing on tiptoes, her hands gripping the handlebars of her bike. She jerked her head toward the farm, a sixties bungalow nestled in the dip, a few metres away.
‘He’s there,’ she mouthed.
Zoe nodded and smiled conspiratorially at her friend. ‘You dare me?’
Keira wasn’t sure any more. ‘You could just tell the truth.’ She glanced at the farmyard again and could make out the figure of a man working outside. A pale-coloured sheepdog ran frenetically around the yard and she glimpsed several other dogs, in kennels, whining noisily off to the right of the house. A small radio sat on the ground where the man worked and, although she couldn’t distinguish the tune, she caught the odd note on the wind.
‘Ask me again,’ Zoe said.
‘OK.’ Keira hoped her friend would just answer and then they could go home. ‘How many times have you –’ she began. But, before Keira could finish her sentence, Zoe was off, freewheeling the short distance to the farm gates. Keira jumped up onto her saddle and pedalled quickly to catch up. Keira came to a halt a few feet from Zoe.
Zoe stopped abruptly, in view of the farmer. His name was Jerry Wyre. Keira knew that much and, rumour was, he beat his wife. Keira also knew that, if the rumours were true, then they were playing a very dangerous game. Keira watched, in horror, as Zoe hitched her already short skirt up.
He refused to look in her direction. Instead, he continued to tighten the bolts on a rusting tractor, his eyes never leaving the job in hand. This was not the first time they had ridden by the farm this summer. Most days they headed in the direction of Blackwood Forest and sat at the top of Dyers Hill, looking out over the vale. Having spotted Jerry the first time, it hadn’t taken long for him to become an object of fascination. Keira’s cheeks grew warm just thinking about some of the sordid conversations they’d had about the man.
Zoe looked at Keira and smiled, before shouting over to Jerry.
‘Hi.’
He stopped; his shoulders remained hunched and his eyes stayed with the tractor. Zoe continued to watch him, her hand resting on the top of her thigh. Keira willed her friend to turn away. She wondered, now, if it was easier for Zoe to complete the dare, rather than answer the question, rather than tell her the truth. She couldn’t imagine they kept any secrets from one another.
Keira trusted Zoe with her life. Yet, now, she wondered if Zoe was keeping something from her. That thought alone lodged a ball of unease in her stomach. Why couldn’t Zoe just answer the question? Keira had asked because it seemed harmless. But Keira had seen the momentary look of fear in Zoe’s eyes. It had been fleeting, but she had seen it.
Keira watched Zoe lick her lips, perhaps nervously, though it looked lascivious, and wait for a reaction. Zoe was stubborn; she wouldn’t leave easily. Keira should
have known this was a stupid dare. Zoe was unlike other girls she knew, unafraid of her sex appeal, and Jerry was undeniably attractive in an older man (she could hear her mother calling him a ‘working-man’) kind of a way.
Jerry eventually raised his head and stared in her direction. He appeared to look through her, no visible emotion. ‘What do you want?’
Keira noticed that his voice was deep, rough with an Irish lilt.
‘Mr Wyre,’ began Keira. She could hear the sing-song, mocking tone in her friend’s words, and grimaced. ‘Keira and I were wondering if there were any jobs you’d like us to help you with on the farm?’ Zoe looked over at Keira, a smirk on her face.
She had completed the dare.
Keira struggled to keep an evenness to her voice. ‘Come on, Zoe. We need to get back.’
‘Mr Wyre?’ Zoe prompted.
He stared hard at Zoe, his face stony. ‘Go away. I’ve seen you girls passing by here. We don’t want any trouble.’
Keira’s heart pounded as she silently urged Zoe to give up.
‘We just want to help out. We don’t mean any harm.’ Zoe flashed him a smile and Keira pushed down the pulsing anxiety at the base of her throat.
‘Go away.’
‘Fine,’ Zoe said, a haughty edge to her voice. ‘Your loss.’ She manoeuvred the bike forty-five degrees so that the handlebars faced Jerry, and placed her right foot on the pedal, rotating it slowly until it reached its full height. Zoe cocked her head to one side. ‘You know, it’s not very gentlemanly to be looking up a lady’s skirt.’
Keira sat back on her bike and wobbled forward. She wanted to grab Zoe by the sleeve of her shirt and drag her
away. Jerry remained unmoving, except for the rise and fall of his chest.
A woman appeared at the front door to the bungalow, her fingers kneading the edge of a tea towel.
‘Everything OK?’ the woman asked in a small voice.
‘Just fine,’ he replied, his eyes fixed on the girls.
‘What do you girls want here? Are you bothering my husband?’
Zoe smiled. ‘We’re just asking if we can help around the farm.’
‘Shouldn’t you be at school? How old are you, anyway?’ the woman asked.
‘Fifteen,’ Zoe said. ‘School starts in a couple of days. We didn’t mean any harm.’
‘Eleanor, go inside,’ Jerry said to the woman.
She looked momentarily unsure, nodded and returned indoors, leaving the door open.
‘Go away. Leave us alone,’ he said.
Zoe shrugged, remounted her bike and sped off. Keira rode wordlessly behind her, stopping only once by the sign welcoming visitors to Chilcote village.
‘I can’t believe you just did that.’ Keira shook her head in disbelief. ‘I didn’t think you would do it.’
Zoe laughed loudly. ‘You dared me. You said, “Go and talk to Jerry Wyre”, so I did.’
Keira swallowed. ‘I also asked you a question. I thought you would take the question.’
Zoe’s face hardened. ‘No.’
‘Right.’ Keira was at a loss for words.
‘Anyway,’ Zoe said, relaxing, ‘he’s not bad-looking. I was quite enjoying myself.’
‘Why won’t you answer the question?’
Zoe murmured, ‘Because you wouldn’t want to know the truth.’ She got back on her bike. ‘See you, Keira.’
‘Zoe,’ Keira shouted after her.
Zoe stopped, looked over her shoulder and stared at the ground. ‘You know, it’s just the one.’
Keira knew she was lying. She had known her friend for long enough to know that much. ‘It was just a silly question, Zoe. Let’s forget about it, yeah?’
Zoe’s face brightened. ‘Yeah.’
‘Anyway, you completed the dare.’ Keira smiled. ‘Never thought you’d do it.’
Zoe rode off, shouting, ‘Double-dare me to go back?’ She waved as she turned the corner.
Keira put her hand up in farewell. They had come up with four rules, sworn on each other’s lives never to break.
1. If a dare was completed: they win a packet of cigarettes.
2. Double-dare: the initial dare was completed, they could take the same dare further.
3. If a double-dare was completed: they win five packets of cigarettes or get their homework done by the other for two nights.
4. They would destroy all evidence of truth or dare.
Truth. That’s all Keira had wanted. She had been sure of Zoe’s answer and, now, she knew Zoe was holding back. She didn’t know everything about her best friend and, acknowledging this, hurt twisted in her stomach. Zoe was meant to be the one reliable person in her life, the person who had made the last few months bearable, and now she suddenly felt so alone. What had Zoe meant by ‘You wouldn’t want to know the truth’? That’s exactly what she did want to know. Maybe Zoe had kept it from her because she knew Keira was a virgin. Keira thought this unfair.
She had told Zoe about her crush on Todd, a guy in her year. They had moved into the village in early June, just as
the media attention on her family had, thankfully, started to fade away because the girl, Rosamund, her father’s student, had dropped the charge. Keira had only spoken to Todd a couple of times, when he had been walking up the hill from school by himself. Otherwise, the couple of times she had seen him with his mother in town, he had ignored her. He probably, like most kids at her school, had been told to avoid the Sullivan family.
‘
OK
,
Zoe, truth: how many times have you had sex?
’
Keira rode home, feeling miserable, realising she hadn’t been told the answer after all.
Keira hadn’t turned her phone on all evening, or most of the next day. She had wanted to shut herself away from it all. It was easy to hide in her room these days, ever since her parents had stopped having evening meals together. Ever since her father had started drinking more heavily.
Ever since …
Those two words preceded everything in her life now.
It was as if life just changed overnight. One week in April, a sweltering week, unusually hot for spring, it was as if nature had been trying to warn her. Before she had arrived home to the news about her father, she had been in town after school with Zoe. They had picked out a couple of crop-tops from New Look and sat outside Costa Coffee drinking iced coffee (even though she didn’t like the taste, but it felt grown-up), and smoking. Bliss. She had spotted Todd in the record store where he worked. Zoe must have caught her looking, because that’s when she started the ribbing. Keira didn’t mind. Zoe was her best friend and she had always told her everything.
Keira brushed a tear from her cheek, waiting for her phone to ping to life. Two new messages. Zoe had sent her
videos. One lasted a minute. The next was four and a half. Keira checked the time. They had been sent an hour ago.
Zoe’s face appeared on the screen. ‘Hi, Ki-Ki. Look where I am.’
Keira peered more closely as Zoe held the phone away from her face and directed it toward the open space behind her. The farmyard. Keira’s pulse quickened as she was hit by the realisation that Zoe had returned to the farm today. Alone.
Zoe’s face filled the screen once more. ‘OK, here I go.’
The image then darkened and the sound muffled. Keira desperately turned the volume up to its max.
She could hear a woman’s voice. It could be Jerry’s wife.
Zoe reappeared and she was laughing. ‘Already been told off,’ she whispered, clearly enjoying herself.
The video stopped.
Keira opened the next one and waited.
Zoe reappeared and Keira felt a heady rush of relief at seeing her friend’s smiling face. ‘Right, I’m off to find Jerry.’ The shot moved up and down with the pounding of Zoe’s feet over tarmac, then over a stile and along what looked like the edge of a field.
After a couple of minutes, Zoe spoke into the phone. ‘There he is.’
Zoe angled the phone so that Keira could see Jerry sitting up against the front wheel of his tractor; his eyes were shut and his face tilted up to the sunshine. He must have heard Zoe’s footsteps and he brought his head up.
‘Go away.’
‘Is that all you’re going to say to me?’ Zoe’s voice was tinged with sullenness.
‘Leave me alone.’ He jerked his head toward the phone. ‘What are you doing with that thing?’