The Wrong Move

by Jennifer Savin

  The woman on the front of the box grinned inanely back at them.

  ‘I can dye it for you later, if you want?’ Lauren continued, picking up a small section of Jessie’s hair and twirling it between her fingers. ‘It’s funny how you and Sofie have the same sort of hairstyle, yet we’re the ones who are so close in the flat.’

  She gave a laugh that sounded like a bark. Jessie was a little taken aback by the suggestion but tried not to let it show. She eyed Lauren, trying to work out if she was joking. But it quickly transpired she wasn’t and was patiently waiting for an answer.

  ‘I wouldn’t suit hair like yours,’ Jessie said, bewildered, which made Lauren frown.

  ‘Of course you would. I wish you had more confidence Jessie,’ she implored. ‘I’ll show you how to do your make-up like mine too, that’ll help you get the look. Some proper bright red lipstick would definitely give you more self-assurance too.’

  Jessie was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She did really admire Lauren’s style but it just wasn’t her. Lauren probably had good intentions to help build her self-esteem back up but it was an odd suggestion – she couldn’t imagine Priya or Nicole ever saying anything like that. Maybe coming into town had been a mistake. Jessie longed to go home and curl up in bed alone again, to swallow enough pills to sleep away the rest of the weekend.

  In all the months they’d lived together, she’d worried about coming across as a meek little loser chasing her flatmate around, looking for friendship, but now it felt that the tables were turning. Lauren was almost bordering on clingy.

  ‘I’d be up for a make-up tutorial at some point, but I think the hair idea is a no go,’ Jessie kept her voice airy. ‘I’m useless at fashion and beauty, which is probably why I’ve been wearing the same stuff for years.’

  That answer placated Lauren slightly.

  ‘Let’s buy some bits now then, we can do it when we get home! I’ll get you them as a present.’

  Lauren grabbed Jessie’s hand and animatedly dragged her back to where the different beauty brands were housed by the entrance. She started gesturing wildly at the products, waving a black eyeliner pencil around, then took the cap off and drew a mark on the back of her hand.

  ‘See the way it smudges?’

  Jessie struggled to keep up with everything Lauren was saying, her brain feeling like a wrung-out sponge. She was chattering away at such a speed, throwing eyeshadows into the basket too, it was a miracle she could still breathe. It was starting to feel over-intense. Was Lauren trying to buy her friendship? What with the numerous takeaways, drinks on nights out and now this? If this was her way of trying to help Jessie forget about the attack, it was only making her uncomfortable.

  ‘Really, it’s not fair for you to pay,’ Jessie insisted, folding her arms across her chest. ‘And I don’t want you to. I can buy my own stuff.’

  Getting a round in was one thing, but splurging on unnecessary gifts was another. Jessie appreciated Lauren’s generosity but didn’t want to be thought of as a charity case.

  ‘Sorry, you’re right,’ Lauren laughed, smearing a lipstick inside her wrist. ‘Can we do the makeover when we get back, then take some photographs together? I need to show people on Instagram that not only am I still alive but I actually have friends too.’

  Jessie found herself lost for words. Something about Lauren was off today. If she didn’t know her better, she’d say she might even be drunk. She decided that she’d head to Priya’s after the makeover. They needed to discuss Matthew anyway. Having kept her promise that she’d think things over before reaching out to him, Jessie had now decided firmly that she still wanted – no, needed – to do it. She needed answers from him and to fully draw a line under their relationship, because even when she wasn’t actively trying to work out how he knew she’d moved to Brighton, or whether Matthew had been involved in her attack, his face still hummed in the back of her brain, like a neon sign in a late-night greasy spoon. A constant, dull buzz. Not always at the forefront, but present nonetheless. She was desperate for just one thing in her life to be clear-cut for a change, to destroy the last of her connections to him so she could attempt to start building something better for herself.

  When she’d had enough of piling up a stash of products, identical to those in her own bedroom, Lauren walked over to the queue to pay for them, her movements jerky, like a wind-up toy, and unlike the other sauntering shoppers. Jessie followed her and withdrew a £20 note from her purse.

  ‘Don’t be silly, let me buy these,’ she tried again, trying to push the note into Lauren’s free hand.

  ‘No, I want to get them for you. You’ve had a rough time and today is about cheering you up.’

  Lauren sounded stern. She clenched her fist into a tight ball, so the money couldn’t be placed in her palm and Jessie stopped protesting. By now she knew that when Lauren had set her mind on something, she rarely budged. She put the money back in her purse, vowing to secretly transfer it into Lauren’s bank account later on, the details of which she already had saved from sending over her portion of the council tax, and watched her interact with the cashier. Lauren joked as the make-up was slipped into a carrier bag, along with the mandatory skincare vouchers you always seemed to be given in Boots but which nobody ever seemed to spend. Jessie’s own purse had several expired ones in it. The shop assistant laughed along, clearly happy to have a customer not glued to their phone while paying for once. Lauren’s gravitational pull was very much in full effect. Her charm and humour could draw in anyone she set her sights on.

  As she waited, Jessie pulled up Twitter on her phone and began absentmindedly scrolling through. She laughed at a funny quip someone had posted, then caught up on the latest celebrity divorce announcement. Then she saw it. A tweet from the Argus. A dog walker had discovered a body washed up on the beach earlier that day. Before she’d even clicked the link to read the full article, Jessie’s own body braced with anticipation. When Magda’s photo loaded at the top of the web page, the room began to spin. The overhead fluorescent bulbs became blinding. She gripped onto a shelf of allergy medication and gasped so loudly that a nearby couple stopped their conversation and stared. Their toddler began to wail in its buggy, kicking her chubby legs around. Magda wasn’t missing. She was dead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  ‘Are you okay?’ Lauren touched Jessie’s arm lightly, making her jump. ‘You’ve gone all pale.’

  Jessie steadied herself, wishing that the lingering couple would stop eavesdropping and soothe their screaming child instead. She threw them a condemning look and headed to the exit of the shop, needing to catch her breath. Once outside, she showed Lauren the news report and watched her read it, her eyes rushing from left to right, taking in each sentence as quickly as she could.

  ‘It says that at this stage of the investigation the death is not believed to be suspicious,’ Jessie blurted out, unable to wait. ‘Suicide … that’s just so heartbreaking. Or do you think she was drunk at the time?’

  Hopefully her own attack was unconnected. Maybe some of the guilt she’d been carrying around over the last few days would start to shift when the post-mortem results came in and ruled out any foul play. But if they didn’t? Lauren’s face remained blank, digesting the blow.

  ‘“The police are awaiting the pathologist’s report.”’ She read the last sentence aloud, then handed Jessie back her phone and reached into her handbag for her tobacco, attempting to roll with trembling hands.

  Lauren coughed as she took a strong drag, the end of her cigarette glowing hotly.

  ‘Are you okay, Lauren? And do you think Sofie and Marcus will be upset? It must be awful that this has happened to someone you know,’ Jessie spoke slowly.

  It felt too serious to post about it in their group chat, a space littered with emojis and passive-aggressive messages asking whose wet clothes had been left in the washing machine, stopping anybody else from using it.

  ‘Even if they are upset it won’t be to the same exten
t that I am,’ Lauren said, looking stunned. ‘Marcus was going through a real low point when Magda lived with us – he was in his room literally all the time – and it’s not like Sofie was often around either. It was just me and Magda, we were best friends.’

  Jessie couldn’t imagine how Marcus could spend even more time in his bedroom than he did currently, forever locking himself away from the world, emerging only at mealtimes or to go to work.

  ‘I’m so sorry this has happened, Lauren. If you ever want to talk about it with someone, you know where I am. My door is always open.’

  The couple left the shop, their focus back on their toddler, who was enjoying being cooed at. Lauren and Jessie moved slightly to get out of the family’s way.

  ‘This feels like a bad dream,’ Lauren replied, her features still unreadable. ‘I think I’m going to head home, I don’t want to stay out any more. Are you coming?’

  Wanting to try and get hold of Priya first, Jessie decided to hang back in the city centre for a bit longer. She’d find a café and call her, preferring to do it outside of the flat.

  ‘I just need to sort a few bits out first, then I’ll get the bus back. Can you manage on your own?’ she said, hoping Lauren might prefer to be alone anyway. ‘If not, I can come now if you’d rather.’

  She’d make it up to her later, by cooking a nice dinner and spending the evening with her, being on hand in case she wanted to talk about anything.

  ‘It’s fine, babe.’ Lauren coughed again, almost sounding relatively normal. ‘I could use a bit of time to myself. See you in a bit.’

  A trail of smoke followed Lauren down the hill, as Jessie headed in the opposite direction towards a coffee shop. It was a small boutique one with bunches of fresh flowers lining the outside (and therefore bloggers too), just past the point on Western Road where Brighton ‘ended’ and Hove began. She hadn’t been in the coffee shop since university but suddenly found herself yearning for one of its famed hot chocolates, hoping a sugar hit might help her feel less spaced.

  Images of Magda floated through her mind as she walked. Magda taking in her last breath. Was it an accident? Had she screamed? Would anybody have heard? She could see glimmers of the sea that had swallowed her up just peeking out from the end of the road leading down towards the beachfront. How awful it must have been for the unfortunate person who had discovered Magda’s lifeless body too. Jessie entered the coffee shop, allowing the warmth of it to embrace her, feeling dazed. She ordered a drink and the server behind the till, a beefy man with a wiry beard and sailor tattoos, promised to bring it over. Taking a seat by the counter, just in case he forgot what she looked like, Jessie pulled out her phone. Priya answered after two short rings.

  ‘I’ve seen the news,’ she said immediately. ‘I can’t believe it – that poor, poor woman. She was training to be a midwife, what a waste of a life. Imagine feeling so trapped that ending it all was your only way out.’

  ‘It’s heartbreaking, isn’t it?’ Jessie agreed, shaking her head even though Priya obviously couldn’t see. ‘She said there was something she wanted to tell me, that evening we were meant to meet so I could return the necklace to her. Now I’ll never know what it was.’

  There was silence on the other end of the line.

  ‘To be honest, Jess, you have so much other stuff to be dealing with right now that I’m not sure it’s a good idea to invest much more of your energy into this,’ Priya said eventually, exhaling loudly at the end. ‘I know it’s really upsetting but try not to think too much about it. You know Lauren, you trust her, and she says this Magda was messed up and left them in a bit of a financial fix. It sounds like she could have been caught up in all sorts.’

  The man with the beard placed the hot chocolate down on Jessie’s table atop a small china saucer. She nodded thank you in his direction and he smiled back, then returned to his usual post behind the counter, wiping down the nozzle used for foaming milk on the coffee machine.

  ‘I hear you. It’s just all so surreal …’ She paused, taking her first sip. ‘But what do I do with the necklace I found now? It was obviously important to Magda; maybe her family would want it back?’

  The drink scalded her tongue.

  ‘Wasn’t she from Poland? I thought the news reports said her family don’t live in the UK?’ Priya replied. ‘Look, I know you care and it’s amazing that you do, but you can’t take in every stray dog and take on every stranger’s problems. Give it to Lauren or Sofie, maybe one of them would like something to remember Magda by.’

  Jessie decided to sleep on it. Perhaps she could contact Magda’s friend who had been quoted in the newspaper and return the jewellery to her? Anything to get it out of her own bedroom, where, even though it was small, it seemed to dominate a lot of space.

  ‘I have something I wanted to tell you,’ Jessie said, suddenly remembering the purpose of their phone call. ‘I’ve been thinking about your advice, how you said I can’t let Matthew ruin my life, and having really considered it, I’m going to message him. I wondered if you would help me work out what to say?’

  She blew on the hot chocolate before taking another gulp. It was so thick, almost like drinking a sauce, coating her throat in a dense layer on the way down. Priya gave a heavy sigh, making the call crackle and Jessie’s ear tingle involuntarily.

  ‘Well, I don’t like this idea but you know I’ll back you. If you really think it’s for the best?’

  Jessie felt something rise up and strengthen within her; it was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time, something close to a shred of fighting spirit.

  ‘I do. I need to try get and get closure over everything. I need so badly for there to be a definitive end point to all of this; I feel like I can’t truly start my life over until there is.’

  Priya stayed silent.

  ‘I’ve started to realise that life is too short to be afraid of your past. Look at Magda – nobody knows when their time is up. I’ve spent too much of mine looking over my shoulder and jumping at my own shadow, I need to start rebuilding myself.’

  There was a change in Jessie’s voice, a determination that Priya hadn’t heard before.

  ‘Why don’t you come round mine and we can figure out the best approach?’ she offered.

  ‘Can we say seven? I should spend some time with Lauren first and make sure she’s handling the news okay; she was acting really strangely today,’ explained Jessie. ‘Would you mind if I stay over too? It would feel weird sleeping in Magda’s old room tonight.’

  They said their goodbyes. Jessie finished the last of her drink, pushed her chair back and walked to the bus stop.

  Back in the flat, Lauren stood in her bedroom, painting. Pulling the deep red strokes of oil across the canvas helped to dispel some of the unidentifiable emotions she’d been feeling, ever since Jessie had shown her the article. She mixed a blob of black into the crimson, turning it an even bloodier shade and swiped again. The artwork was coming together nicely and would soon be finished. There was a knock on the door. She balanced the messy palette precariously on the edge of her easel and opened it to find Jessie standing on the landing, holding a family size bar of Dairy Milk.

  ‘Just to say thank you for the make-up,’ she explained, handing the bar of chocolate to Lauren. ‘And maybe cheer you up a bit.’

  ‘That’s so sweet,’ Lauren replied, stepping aside, allowing Jessie to enter. ‘Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess in here.’

  Jessie looked around, taking in the clothes strewn over Lauren’s floor and piled on a beaten-up leather chair in the corner. The last time she’d been in here, Lauren had seemed cagey about letting anyone in her bedroom. She noticed that the photos previously stuck to the walls by Lauren’s bed had been taken down, small shadows of Blu Tack being all that remained. Lauren saw her staring.

  ‘Probably get charged for those marks if I ever move out,’ she laughed unnaturally. ‘Maybe it’s time I painted these old walls up anyway. I hate that we have to live in this magnolia b
ox where there’s no space for expression.’

  Truthfully, Jessie didn’t mind her plain walls. She was used to them now and her room felt more her own. Then she remembered that it used to be Magda’s and felt ill. She was grateful to be staying at Priya’s tonight, but what about all the other nights? She could hardly move in with her and Zoe, their flat was already cramped enough as it was.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Jessie asked. ‘About it all.’

  Lauren was hunched over her laptop, queuing up old house songs on iTunes. They were mellow in tempo, the type of songs that Jessie imagined people who had defined back muscles and who wore white crochet dresses listened to as they watched the sun set in an Ibizan café. She hadn’t been allowed to go on the girls’ holiday with Nicole and the rest of her friendship group at the end of sixth form, on Matthew’s orders. She thought about sharing that with Lauren, maybe suggesting they plan their own trip, but it didn’t feel the right time to start talking about herself.

  ‘It’s been on my mind all afternoon,’ said Lauren, looking up and meeting Jessie’s eyes. ‘But I’ve had some serious losses in my time and I’m not going to force myself to feel worse about this one than I need to, when it can’t compare. If that makes sense?’

  Jessie looked at Lauren, really taking in her peaches and cream complexion, the tiny tattoo on her wrist, and thought about how close they’d become in just a few short months. How nice it was to just hang out in Lauren’s bedroom together, even though the circumstances were less than ideal, the air heavy with confusion over Magda’s death. They’d reached a stage where it felt weird being in the flat at the same time and not spending almost every minute of it together. Even when they were apart, Lauren was forever messaging her funny takes on whatever the day’s big celebrity news story was or making quips about Marcus.

  ‘Shall we try out some of these new make-up bits, then?’ Jessie suggested, spotting the Boots carrier bag on Lauren’s windowsill and thinking that doing something relatively normal would be a welcome distraction for them both. Lauren’s eyes lit up.