Authors: Sharon Sant
‘Are you mental?
Matt is always here. You’ll have to find somewhere else to go in future.’
‘He’s not
always
here,’ she says defensively.
‘I’m not having
a go at you,’ I say. ‘You just need to be careful.’
‘I suppose. You
should go,’ she says, wrapping her sandwiches back up. She’s hardly eaten
enough to feed an anorexic gnat. No wonder she’s so skinny.
‘Meet me
tonight?’
‘Where?’
I think about
the churchyard and whether Matt will be there again with Ingrid. ‘I’m not sure.
Where do you think?’
She snaps the
lid back on her lunchbox.
‘How about back here?
There’s a gap in the fence –’
‘I know where it
is.’
‘Oh, yeah, of course.
About eight?
After I’ve done Dad’s tea.’
I think about
how many hours it is until
eight o’clock
.
They seem to stretch out ahead forever. ‘Eight… ok.’
Bethany
sees me waiting under the security light and runs up the field. She
glances up at me as she ducks through the gap in the fence and I can see the
frown furrowing her brow even in the half-light.
‘I thought you
weren’t coming,’ I say.
‘Yeah, sorry.
I had trouble getting away.’
‘I’ve been
waiting ages.’
‘I said sorry.’
I try to bite
back my annoyance. ‘It’s ok. I just thought you weren’t coming,
that’s all.’
She doesn’t
reply and starts to walk in the direction of the benches beneath the windows of
the canteen. I get the sense that something she wants to say is stuck in her
throat.
‘Are you ok?’ I
ask as I follow her.
She flops down
on a bench and hugs herself. The frosted concrete glints diamond hard in
the stark security light. She must be cold in her crappy thin coat.
‘Dad gave me a
bit of a hard time,’ she says. ‘It’s nothing I can’t handle.’
I sit next to
her, as close as I can. Then I remember that no matter how close I sit I can’t
warm her any. But she looks at me gratefully as if she realises that I’m
trying.
‘Did he want to
know where you were going?’ I ask.
‘Not that,’ she
says, pulling her coat tighter.
‘Sometimes, he just
gets… difficult.’
‘Difficult?
How did you get away then?’
‘I had to wait
until he fell asleep.’
‘He fell
asleep? It’s only about
eight o’clock
.’
She shrugs. ‘He gets
tired when he’s had a beer or two.’ She smiles slightly. ‘So I made sure he had
a beer or two.’
I’m beginning to
realise that there’s a whole other Bethany
I don’t know at all.
‘What did you do
after I left you at lunch?’ she asks.
‘I wandered around
a bit.’
‘It must be
boring.’
‘It is. Do
you think there are rules to this?’
‘What do you
mean?’
‘I mean, like
about where I can and can’t go?’
‘Can’t you go
anywhere?’
‘Well, there is
only one place in the whole village anyone’s supposed to have seen the plague
kids.’
She nods.
‘Why don’t they
go anywhere else?’
‘That’s just a
story,’ she says slowly, ‘there are no ghosts there really.’
‘How can you say that when
I’m
sitting right here with you?’
‘I just feel
like you’re different.’
‘But what would happen
if I decided to leave the village? Do I have to stay here to exist? Would I
disappear like smoke on the wind if I didn’t?’
‘I don’t know,’
she replies thoughtfully.
‘I don’t know
how much longer I can go on like this. Maybe one day I’ll be so fed up
that I’ll try to leave to see if that happens. Maybe I won’t care if it
does.’
‘I’d care,’ she
says.
‘You wouldn’t be
here, you’d be at university, or living in London, or Leeds, or Edinburgh doing
some amazing job and living some amazing life, and you’d have forgotten all
about me. Even if you ever remembered I’d be so faded that I’d hardly be
there at all anyway.’
‘Don’t say
that.’
‘Why not?
I’m fading, Bethany,
I know it. I think that’s what happened to my dad, that’s why I can’t see him.
One day I’ll be so see-through that you’ll forget I was ever here,
just like everyone else has.’
She’s quiet for
a moment, staring into the darkness, ‘I think we should go and see Raven,’ she
says finally.
I shake my head.
‘Why not?’
‘She’s a
fake. I went to her and she couldn’t see or hear me, just like everyone
else.’
Bethany
looks at me with a frown. ‘Maybe she has to do something first, like a séance
or something?’
‘Even if she
does, she’ll want paying.’
‘How much?’
I shrug.
‘Probably loads.’
‘That could be a
problem.’
I look at
her hopefully. Her frown deepens.
‘Sorry,’ I say,
‘that was a stupid thing to ask after how mean I’ve been to you. Why
would you give me your money?’
‘It’s not
that,’ she corrects quickly. ‘I just don’t get much spare cash. I can’t think
of anyone else who might be able to help you, though.’ She stares at the black
expanse of the fields. ‘If we just went to Raven and explained everything,
maybe she’d feel sorry for you and help.’
‘You think
someone who cons upset people by pretending to see their dead family members is
going to help for nothing?’
‘We haven’t even
tried,’ she says. ‘You want to know what’s going on, don’t
you?
’
‘Course I do. I
just don’t think it will work.’
‘I
googled
earlier,’ she says. ‘There was loads of stuff on
there but you can’t ever know what to believe on the internet, can you?’
‘You have a
computer?’
She laughs.
‘Don’t sound so shocked. We’re not that poor.’
‘Is it a good
one?’
Her eyes open
wide. ‘Some things never change, even when you’re dead.
Does it matter what computer I have?’
I can’t help but
grin. ‘I suppose not.’
‘But
it is
pretty crap,’ she laughs.
‘What sort of
stuff did you find out?’
‘Mostly loads
about unfinished business, people not ready to go, some stuff about bearing
grudges –’
‘I don’t have
any grudges.’
She looks at me
with a knowing smile. ‘You don’t have any grudges? I can name a few. And you do
have some unfinished business.’
I open my mouth
to argue but then I realise that she’s right. ‘Ingrid… But that’s never going
to happen now.’
‘You saying
that’s never going to happen
doesn’t
mean you can let
it go,’ she says. ‘But the stuff on the internet also says that sometimes the
dead person’s spirit attaches itself to a significant living one and it’s only
them that can hear and see the spirit. If that’s true, how come Ingrid
isn’t having this conversation with you instead of me?’
‘Maybe because
Ingrid would freak as soon as she saw me and you don’t?’
‘It still
doesn’t make any sense, though. I mean, we practically never even looked
at each other before now.’
As bad as it
makes me feel she has a point. ‘That can’t be right, then, can it?’
‘
Which is why we need to talk to someone who knows this stuff.
I’ll go and see her. It’s got to be worth a try.’
I stare at
her. She looks different tonight, but I’m not sure why.
‘You seem like
you’re not even sure you want to go on to where you’re supposed to be,’ she
says.
‘I can’t hang
around like this forever, it’s driving me crazy. But I don’t know what’s
waiting for me either.’
She nods. ‘It’s
pretty scary, I suppose.’
‘Terrifying.’
Saying it even takes me by surprise.
‘It’s ok to be
afraid,’ she says.
I don’t know
what to say, so I look out across the fields. You can’t see what’s out there
beyond our little circle of light. My hand creeps along the bench and
rests next to Bethany’s. She
looks across at me and smiles as she puts her hand on the bench through mine.
‘We don’t have
to do anything,’ she says quietly.
‘We don’t,’ I
agree, ‘but I’m even more scared of being alone forever.’
‘I’m sure there
must be other people like me, who can see you,’ she says. I know she’s
just trying to be encouraging and I wish I could feel better for it.
Suddenly, she
sits up really straight and cocks her head to one side. ‘Did you hear something?’
I listen for a
second. There’s absolute silence, not even the distant whoosh of a car on
the road, not the tiniest breeze stirring the grass. But then I hear a sound,
like the rustle of fabric. Bethany
leaps off the bench and squeezes herself in a corner beneath a canteen
window. She waves her hand frantically at me to join her.
‘No one can see
me,’ I say. ‘Wait here, I’ll go and look.’
She nods
silently, her wide eyes reflecting the security light.
I round the
corner of the building and the main yard opens out in front of me.
There’s something strangely exhilarating about not having to be scared any more
and I stride across the grounds. The yard is in gloom but I see two
silhouettes flit past the fence towards the main building. They don’t look like
kids, at least, not little ones. I watch for a few moments but the yard
is still and silent again. Whoever they were, they’ve gone now.
I run back to Bethany.
She’s still in the corner, her breathing shallow, eyes darting everywhere.
‘You need to
go,’ I whisper. ‘And you need to be really quiet.’ I don’t know why I suddenly
feel like she needs to go. And I don’t know why I’m whispering but I
can’t help it.
She doesn’t question
my instructions but scrambles up and makes her way silently along the wall,
keeping as close as she can. I follow her. We reach the edge of the
canteen wall, and the only way to get to the fence now is to break cover. In
silent agreement, we start to run towards the gap in the wire. From the corner
of my eye I see a shadow and before I have a chance to warn her, another figure
steps forwards and blocks her way. A squeal dies in her throat as she
stops dead and stares up at the dark shape.
‘Who’re you
talking to?’ the boy asks. I recognise the voice, but I can’t place it.
Bethany
shakes her head but doesn’t speak. ‘Who’s with you?’ he says. His voice
is steady but it sounds like he’s losing his temper beneath the steel in it.
‘Tell him you were
talking to yourself,’ I say.
She throws me a
sideways glance. I can’t see her expression, it’s too dark, but I’m
guessing she’s really scared.
‘Nobody,’ she
says in a small voice. ‘I was just messing around, talking to myself.’
She says it and
I suddenly realise that it’s a bad idea.
The guy steps
towards her.
‘You sure?’
She nods.
‘So you’re on
your own?’
This time she
just stares up at him. I think she’s realised the mistake too. He grabs
her arm. She starts to pull against his grip, trying to wrench free, but he
takes hold of her with both hands and starts to drag her towards the cover of
the alleyway behind the science block.
‘Bethany!’
I shout.
She squeals but
it’s a high pitched half of nothing and nobody would be able to hear it, even if
they were in the next room. ‘No… please…. let me go,’ she whimpers.
I run after
them; my brain’s working like crazy to try and think of something to help,
something I can actually do. Suddenly, a name comes to me.
‘It’s Gary,’
I shout to Bethany. ‘Gary
James. Call him Gary. If he thinks you know him he might think
twice about doing anything to you.’ I don’t know if she’s heard me or not,
she’s crying so much.
‘Gary,
please,
don’t
hurt me,’ she manages to squeak out. ‘I
won’t tell anyone you were here if you let me go.’
He slows his
stride, just for a second, as though he’s surprised to hear his name.
‘How do you know
who I am?’
‘Tell him
everyone knows him,’ I say.
‘Everyone knows
you around here,’ she says. ‘But I won’t tell anyone about you.’
‘You won’t tell
anyone anyway,’ he says. ‘Because little sluts that tell get what’s coming to
them. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun before you go home, does it?’
He drags her
down the alleyway and shoves her against the wall. She just manages to keep
her balance but I can see that her legs are shaking so much she’s barely
staying upright. He gets close and pushes his whole self up against her. I
stand at the opening not knowing what to do. I want to scream with
frustration for being so helpless. She’s in bits, just sobbing.
It’s dark down there and I can’t see what’s going on properly but my mind is
playing all sorts of sick images to me.
‘For God’s sake,
Beth, just knee him in the nuts or something!’ I shout, but she carries on
crying.
I have to get in
closer. I’d take a deep breath if I had any, but I steel myself and make
my way to them. He’s slobbering all over her face as she turns it away
from him. I get right close to Bethany’s
ear.
‘Listen to me,’
I say in the calmest voice I can manage. ‘Stop crying and listen to me.’
Her sobs start
to break up into sort of stuttering gasps. His hands are making their way down
her body and I have to stay calm myself because I feel like I could gag.
‘Get your
finger,’ I tell her, ‘find the place at the bottom of his windpipe… there’s
sort of a hollow, at the bottom of his neck before you get to his collarbone,
just under his Adam’s apple – put your finger in there and press as hard as you
can and don’t stop no matter what he does.’