“I…”
“I didn’t think so.”
Mr Barnes shook his head. “Now, I don’t know what’s gone on between you two. A lovers’ spat, perhaps?” I choked, coughing sand out of my throat that I hadn't even realised was there. Justin remained in his semi-slouch, only a twitch of his fingertips showing his own reaction. Mr Barnes ignored me and continued. “I won’t have this bullying behaviour in my school.” Unbelievably he was looking at me.
“I–”
“I know you were also attacked, Miss Oh, but not by Mr Hargreaves. Apologise to him. Mr Fisher will be doing the same to you later on.”
Air huffed in and out of my nose, as if it was too offended to enter the lips that would have to betray me. I pressed my mouth closed and shook my head. “Miss Oh, for every three seconds you do not apologise, you will receive one day of detention.”
Justin looked at me and tilted his head, insolently waiting for my apology.
“One… two… three.”
I said nothing.
Mr Barnes shook his head and made a mark on his notebook. “One day of detention, Miss Oh. And again, one... two…”
I couldn’t risk it, the more time I spent in school, the more time the ghosts had to find me. My eyes traced movement on the courtyard, a man in a suit. Was he meant to be there?
Only my house was safe.
Then there was Hannah. She’d go spare if she had to sit on her own at break and lunch.
“I’m sorry,” I spat. The words were like poison on my tongue.
“Sorry for what?” Mr Barnes prompted.
My cheeks burned as if someone was holding a brand to my face. “I’m sorry that I attacked you, Justin.”
“That’s right.” Mr Barnes sat back with his hands across his stomach. “You know, I feel privileged to be at the helm of this school. Can you guess why?”
I shook my head, still burning and itching and hating him with every heartbeat. “This school has opportunities, Miss Oh. It isn’t like other institutions, where there is a single popular ‘gang’ in each year with everyone else excluded. I’ve seen people from different year groups ‘run together’, I’ve seen the unpopular suddenly become accepted, even admired. There are opportunities, Miss Oh, for the daring. For those brave enough to grasp them with both hands.”
Justin made his first noise, a cross between a hiccup and a gasp and I frowned at him. Mr Barnes was off on one of his aimless rants. Why was Justin bothered?
Mr Barnes removed his glasses and stared off into space. “This school has history, Miss Oh.” He leaned forward one more time, his eyes suddenly sharp. This time he was looking at Justin. “
Qui audet vincit
. Who dares wins. Isn’t that right, Mr Hargreaves?”
Justin swallowed, audibly. “That’s right, Mr Barnes.”
Mr Barnes nodded and put his glasses back on. “And there is nothing new under the sun, Miss Oh.” He tapped his paper. “Another detention for you. I’ll also be writing a letter to your father. I’ll expect his reply by return.”
“Taylor, I–” Justin’s voice contained some sort of apology and I wasn’t having that from him, no way.
“Leave me alone.” I slumped back on the sandy chair to wait for the letter that Mr Barnes was emailing to his secretary.
“Fine.” He strode past me without another look.
The chair next to me was occupied by Derek from the year below and I looked across, seeking an empathetic eye-roll. Even I had to admit that the boy was good looking: blemish-free skin, short dreadlocks and a jaw line so firm he could rock a mask and cape if he wanted to.
Today though, he was so pale he looked green and his hands clenched and unclenched in his lap endlessly, like creatures independent of the rest of him. He was hunched over his bag, his whole body tense: a jack-in-the-box ready to spring.
Unable to make any sort of eye contact I turned away. What had happened to him? Until a couple of weeks ago he was the Justin of his year group then suddenly he was even less popular than I was. Hannah told me that if he tried to speak to someone they turned their back on him. If he sat at a lunch table, everyone else got up and left. He had become a ghost in his own classroom.
“Hey.” I couldn’t not speak. “Are you OK?”
There was no reply and I was leaning back in my seat when suddenly he spoke. “How do you stand it?”
“Stand what?” I frowned.
“Being what you are. So ‘out’ with everyone.”
I inhaled sharply. “I have Hannah.”
“So you do.” His fingers twined in and out of themselves, the knuckles red raw. “I…”
“Yes?” I couldn’t help noticing how sunken his eyes were. It looked as if he hadn’t slept for weeks.
“I want to apologise. I was a dick to you. Just like everyone else. I know how it feels now.” He cleared his throat. “You’re stronger than I am, Oh.”
“Derek Anderson, Mr Barnes will see you now.”
“Listen,” I caught his arm. “You should eat lunch with me and Hannah.”
Derek snorted. “That’s nice of you, Oh. Especially considering, you know, everything.
But it’s too late. I’m leaving.”
“In the middle of term?”
“I’ve got a transfer, I’m collecting my papers now. I’m out of here. This place is effed up!
”
He gave a smile as fake as plastic fruit. “Don’t let the bastards get you down, Oh.”
I dropped my hand and watched him go.
Hannah stood in the courtyard waiting for me and she wasn’t alone.
“Look who’s keeping me company,” she half sang.
“Pete.” My eyes widened, but still I nodded at him as I went to her side. He grunted wordlessly and moved away, disassociating himself.
I sighed and turned to Hannah. “You didn’t have to wait.” I shook more sand out of my waistband. Would I ever get rid of it all?
“Last period’s over. I’ll get the bus with you.”
Gratefully I stuck my arm through hers. Then I stopped and turned to our one-time friend. “You know, you could get the bus with us.”
Pete just looked at me.
“Like old times.”
“Right,” he sneered. “Those times you pretended to like me, or the ones you refused to talk to me?”
“That’s not fair.” Hannah leaped to my defence. “We were friends.”
Pete turned to Hannah. “Does she ever tell you what’s going on with her?”
Hannah blushed and avoided looking at me.
“I don’t know how you stand it, Han.” He rubbed his palm over the darker mahogany of his head. “How can you think she’s your friend if she won’t talk to you?”
“We talk,” Hannah snapped.
“Yeah sure. Look she’s zoned out on us already. Obviously not that interested.”
Pete's words had become a distant buzz, my focus shifted to the suited man striding across the flagstones. Was he living or dead?
The sun had moved and now the whole courtyard was in the shade so the first item on my mental checklist, to look for a shadow, was out. Pete and Hannah had their backs to him, so I couldn’t tell if they were able to see him or not. I had to assume he was a ghost.
I prepared to run, slipping my arm free of Hannah’s.
Pete caught my other elbow. “You think you’re better than us.”
“That’s not true.” I was forced to take my eyes off the approaching suit. “Let go, will you?”
Hannah still clung to one arm and Pete had the other. I was trapped.
The suit saw my predicament. His pace increased and he raised his head to look directly at me.
It was possible he needed to ask directions or something.
And it was about to rain kittens.
I had to get out of there. I tugged ineffectually at Pete, but he didn’t move. “Did you ever like me the way I liked you?” he suddenly asked.
“I…
I…” I blinked up at him. “It was complicated. And this isn’t a good time.”
The businessman reached us and smiled. I grit my teeth and tensed, but he didn’t hesitate. He reached past Pete’s arm and grabbed my hand, pressing his palm on to my knuckles. My skin froze as if I’d held my hand to a block of ice and an almost electric shock shivered up my arm. Then a familiar black Mark spread across my tendons like spilled ink.
“Crap.” Immediately I yanked my hand free, terrified that I might accidentally touch my friend’s skin.
“You’re a cold bitch.” Pete swung around and strode away.
The words to stop him caught in my throat. Pete had been wavering, maybe even considering leaving Justin’s clique. Hannah and I could have had our friend back. Now he was gone again, utterly out of reach.
Venomously I glared at the ghost who had cost us our chance. Then I pulled away from Hannah who was staring after Pete with surprise.
“Did he just say he liked you?”
“It was a long time ago, when Mum was still around. I couldn’t go out with him.”
“I remember you had a lot going on.”
“Yeah.” The ghost drifted closer, wanting to speak to me. I pulled the white glove from my bag and tugged it over my hand.
“Hey, your eczema got bad fast!” Hannah caught at my wrist trying to see and I leaped back. I didn’t dare let her touch me in case she was accidentally branded. The thought of the Darkness coming for my best friend made me sick to my stomach.
“It’s OK, Han. Listen, I’ve got to be somewhere. I’ll call you later.”
Hannah nodded, but her face had fallen. She had waited for me, now she would have to go home alone.
Pete was right, Hannah put up with a lot from me and I wondered once more, with a shiver, how much longer she’d stick around.
6
A TWINGE OF SYMPATHY
I followed the suit away from Ken High Street leaving behind the shoppers, street hawkers and laughing groups of workmates heading for bars.
In this more sedate area shops were open by appointment only and metal grilles obscured half-glimpsed chandeliers and antiques. None of the retailers here were open past five but a few were still shutting up as I walked past. The rattle of descending shutters kept breaking the deathly quiet and making me jump.
The only other person on the road was a woman with a shopping bag from Whole Foods Market. She was obviously heading for home but she turned off before I reached the Crescent where tall white houses loomed like ribs in an elephants’ graveyard, turned purple by twilight.
A glowing taxi passed the end of the road and disappeared.
I rubbed my hands on my skirt. “You’re sure this is the place?”
The suit nodded. “This is it. It’s been five years since she left the house. You’ll have to go in.”
My throat closed up as silence blanketed the street. But there was no way the Darkness was coming for me, not this soon; I’d only been Marked a couple of hours ago. The usual London noise was simply unable to penetrate the labyrinth of high white houses.
“Let’s get this over with.”
The gentle creaking of a tree seemed frighteningly loud and I jumped as a pigeon flapped almost apologetically to roost in its branches.
The murderer’s home was dark and still. “Maybe she’s out.”
The suit shook his head. “No chance. After she had me killed and he left her anyway she lost it. My so-called wife is in there, trust me.”
“And you’re sure she won’t answer the door?” I flexed my hands, hoping he’d say no and that I could simply ring the bell and shake her hand when she answered.
“Not if there’s no delivery expected.”
I sighed and checked out the house opposite. It had high walls, but lights glowed in the upstairs windows. I couldn’t see anyone, but I still opened the gate to number three and walked down the path as if I had a right to be there. The first lesson of breaking and entering that Mum had taught me was that skulking draws attention.
The suit preceded me down the side of the house. I risked one furtive look over my shoulder and when I saw that the street remained quiet I followed and breathed a sigh of relief as the road disappeared from view behind the hedge.
At the back of the house large windows overlooked a decked garden. A few plants in urns provided glimmers of green, but mostly the space was decorated with stone sculptures and mirrored water features.
I turned my back on the centrepiece of a jagged, rippling mirror and regarded the house.
The windows were all shut fast. The double doors that opened on to the decking were locked and a security alarm blinked above them.
“There’s an alarm.”
The suit shrugged. “Can you do this, or not?”
I glared at him and removed the glove from my stained hand. “Thanks to you I don’t have a choice.”
I looked closely at the lock. It was a pretty standard deadbolt. Nothing I couldn’t handle with a tension wrench.
Which was at home. I’d come straight from school. I opened my bag with a sigh and pulled out my History homework amidst yet another small sandstorm. The papers were connected with a metal paperclip and it was the work of a moment to create a makeshift pick.
I tapped my teeth with it and fixed my eyes on the alarm. It was a home security system from Everest. I sucked air in through my teeth, knowing perfectly well that Everest used pre-entry detection.
“I can’t get in while that alarm’s on.”
I was glaring at the blue logo when the light on the box blinked.
“She’s switched it off.” I frowned. “Why?”
The dead guy shrugged. “Maybe she’s letting the cat out.”
“Jeez.” I threw myself behind the water feature as a dumpy figure appeared in the darkness and cracked the door. A soft yowl told me a cat had just joined me in the garden. Briefly I considered rushing the killer. Then I shook my head. She might get back inside before I could reach her, then I’d lose my chance to transfer the Mark. I had to stay hidden.
After a slow count of one hundred I peered around the side of the mirror. The rear of the house remained dark and the figure had vanished.