‘She’s fine. Says the college is pretty dull, but there’s an old public toilet on the grounds that they all gather in to smoke … so I guess it’s not all bad!’ She cackles loudly. ‘Guys, I really miss her. It was nice seeing her every day over the summer. Thank God for FaceTime though, eh? Plus, half-term can’t come soon enough.’
Harriet and I have always spent our summers together, with me visiting her family home as much as possible to get out of our small London flat. But last summer was different. For a start, Lola died – and I pushed everyone away. Then Harriet met Cassie and fell head over heels in love. It was the first summer we weren’t in each other’s pockets. I was happy for her, but so wrapped up in my grief at the same time. I practically threw myself at Teddy as a welcome distraction. I darted between my mum’s flat and his family’s enormous countryside property, the differences between us never more stark than in the moment I’d step off the train platform and into one of his fancy cars.
Just then, I spot Clover making her way across the field towards the art building.
‘Got to dash, guys. I need to speak to Clover about our duet this year!’ I hop up from the table, throwing a peace sign in the air as I leave. ‘Clover, wait for me!’
She turns round and stops. ‘Hey, Ivy!’
‘You’re a hard one to get hold of during the week! I’ve got this book of sheet music for you. Have a look and see if the piece I marked sounds good.’ I rip open my bag and flip through until I find it.
‘Ah, thanks, Ivy! I’ve kind of been neglecting my practice recently, so probably should get on that.’
‘How come? Found something new to protest about? Oh God, please don’t tell me you want Ms Cranshaw to make more vegan meals. You know she absolutely ruins tofu.’
‘No, nothing like that – just my coursework getting away from me already. How’s your mission going, by the way?’ she asks, tilting her head to one side.
‘The podcast thing? No luck. Have you heard anything?’ I had to bring Clover into the loop too. But she’s like my little sister and the more eyes and ears I have, the better, right?
She pauses, pressing a finger to her bottom lip. ‘Not exactly. Well …’
‘Go on. Seriously, I have no leads so, if you have something, spill!’
‘OK, it might be nothing. But everyone loved Lola, right? I mean, why go around spreading gossip?’
‘Good point.’
‘So what if it’s someone who doesn’t know Lola? Totally new to the school?’
‘Like one of the Year Sevens?’ I ask sceptically.
‘Or not. I dunno. Probably a wild theory. I know the voice is all creepy and disguised, but I thought I heard a turn of phrase that was kind of … American.’
I frown. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘Well, it was just a thought. Thanks again for the music. I’ll let you know how I get on!’ She puts up both her thumbs in that cute way of hers.
‘No, wait a sec.’
My mind is running at a hundred miles an hour. There are loads of new kids in Year Seven of course, but there’s no way an eleven-year-old could pull this off. However, there are a few other new students, and the most obvious one shares my room.
I think back to how pale she went at the first mention of Lola’s death, and the drama she caused in history class for no reason at all. She’s so secretive with her laptop – she’s been hiding it under her duvet all week – and she was so cut up about her phone being taken away …
It makes total sense that she’s hiding something. And, thanks to Clover, I think I know exactly what it is.
16
Audrey
Hey, what are you up to?
My phone lights up with a message, and I can’t help the smile that creeps on to my face when I see the name of the sender.
Theodore.
Oh, you know, hanging out at the SCR.
Wow, like a real Illumenite!
Haha, I guess so. Only taken me a week.
It had been Bonnie who finally told me that the SCR is the senior common room.
‘Ohhh,’ I said. ‘Wait – what’s a common room?’
Bonnie had laughed. ‘Only the place you’ll hang out the most in the whole school.’
She wasn’t wrong. The common room is like an enormous lounge, filled with old leather sofas and rich, patterned carpets. Students are relaxing everywhere, some playing what looks like pool at the back of the room. There’s no TV, but some students gather round laptops, streaming movies in their free periods.
Today I’m sitting with Araminta and Bonnie on a pair of chestnut-brown leather sofas, an abandoned game of Cards Against Humanity on the low wooden coffee table in front of us. Araminta leans forward. ‘So, who are you texting?’
‘Oh, just some guy I met on my first day here. I haven’t seen much of him around since then unfortunately.’
‘Ooh, tell!’
‘It’s probably nothing. Some guy called Theodore? I don’t know his last name.’ I feel a blush rising in my cheeks.
Araminta’s eyes widen and then she smiles. ‘Oh sure, we know him, don’t we, Bonnie?’
‘Yeah …’ she says with the slightest hint of hesitation.
‘He’s cute – but a bit too techy for me,’ continues Araminta. ‘I swear if he wasn’t at school he’d be gaming all day. But I could see you guys together. You should totally go for it!’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that. Besides, I swore off guys for a while. Brendan and I broke up just before I came out here and it’s still a little fresh. Wanna see a pic?’
‘Do you even have to ask?’
I pull up an old picture of Brendan and me on the beach, his tanned arm lying across my shoulders as he pulls me close into his bare chest. He always had such muscular arms from swimming on the varsity team – and a great body in general. But there really was something about those arms. My cheeks are rosy in the photo (from a couple of beers we’d swilled), my eyes closed. I can almost smell the light coconut scent of suncream, feel the gentle breeze off the ocean as it tousles my hair … I look happy.
Then my gut twists as I see my old home in the background – the cream-coloured clapboard and white-pillar-framed wrap-around porch.
I put down the phone.
‘Oh my God, he is so gorgeous,’ says Araminta, grabbing it off the table and zooming in on Brendan’s face. ‘I wouldn’t have been able to leave a guy like that behind! I swear they make them better in America.’
‘I sincerely doubt that,’ I say with a big eyeroll, stretching out to take my phone back.
‘Don’t you miss him loads?’ Bonnie asks.
I shrug. ‘Sometimes. But, most of the time, I’m glad I left. Otherwise how would I have met you guys?’ I say, trying to inject some brightness into my tone, hoping they don’t catch how artificial it is. ‘This place is way more interesting than my old school anyway. Even your “common” room is fancy!’
‘You’re telling me. It could be cleaner though.’ Araminta reaches up and runs a finger along the top of the mantelpiece, and wrinkles her nose at the dust. ‘I might mention to Mrs Abbott that the feathers aren’t doing their jobs very well.’
‘Feathers?’ I ask, frowning.
‘Oh right! You wouldn’t know. Just our little Illumen Hall word for the domestic staff here. It’s like having our own language, honestly,’ Araminta says with a laugh. There’s a commotion from behind me, and she tuts.
I look back to see that Ivy has entered the common room, followed by a younger student carrying a bunch of folders.
‘Hey, Ivy.’ Araminta raises her voice so that she can be heard across the room. ‘You know that Year Tens aren’t allowed in the senior common room. Tell Clover to go back downstairs.’
To my surprise, Ivy strides straight over to us – looking directly at me. Clover follows in Ivy’s wake, ignoring Araminta entirely.
‘I don’t know what you’re playing at, Audrey, but I’m on to you. I know you’re responsible,’ Ivy
says, her arms folded across her chest.
I frown. ‘On to me? I have no clue what you’re talking about.’
‘Oh right. So it’s only a coincidence that this podcast started just as you arrived at the school? I know everyone in this place and you’re the only one who “claims” not to have listened to it. So what’s the plan? Trying to become internet-famous or something off the back of our tragedy?’ The rest of the common room falls silent, everyone turning to face us.
I stand up, my body shaking with rage. ‘You think I had something to do with this? I had no idea who this Lola person was before coming here, had no idea she’d died and I’m sorry, but there’s no freakin’ way I would have come to this school if I’d known. What about you? You’re the one who’s never in our room, who’s always skulking about all over the school. Maybe it’s your podcast and you’re just trying to throw suspicion wherever you can!’
‘That’s ridiculous. Why would I want to create a podcast like that? I’m trying to figure out who’s doing it so that it can be stopped. I just want everyone to forget about the whole thing!’ The last words fly out of Ivy’s mouth and she immediately looks like she wishes she’d never said them. Her lips clamp shut and tears spring up in her eyes.
She turns on her heel and storms out, Clover slowly inching her way out behind her.
‘Holy crap, what just happened?’ asks Bonnie.
Araminta stands up and puts her hand on my wrist. ‘It’s OK, Audrey. Ivy’s clearly lost her mind.’
‘I’m not responsible for that … that podcast thing,’ I say, the words stuttering as my heart hammers in my chest.
‘We know …’ says Bonnie, but I can barely hear her.
All I can hear is screams.
‘Do something!’
‘Call nine one one!’
‘DO SOMETHING!’
‘You were responsible.’
‘You were responsible.’
I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. Suddenly the wood-panelled walls feel like a prison too. I can’t stay a moment longer. I need to get out.
17
Ivy
Once I’m far away from the common room, I take a deep breath and lean back against the banister.
Fuck. What have I done?
It doesn’t make me feel good knowing I accused Audrey of something so huge. But, after Clover planted the idea in my head, it’s like I saw red. Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I heard how ridiculous they were. Audrey spends more time on her nails than schoolwork and, despite our differences, she doesn’t really seem like the spiteful type.
It’s been a particularly weird start to the term for me, and I suppose Audrey has borne the brunt of that. But, even as I think about trying to build a bridge between us, I remember her instant alliance with Araminta, Katie and Bonnie. Araminta is all sweetness and light on the outside, but rotten to the core underneath. We’re civil with one another, most of the time, but we’ve definitely clashed over the years. It worries me that Audrey has slipped right into her circle.
I look down at my watch and swear under my breath. Now I’m late for the Yearbook meeting, and I know Araminta won’t be happy. Well, she’ll just have to deal. Straight after it’s over, I’ll find Audrey and apologize. It’s the right thing to do.
I arrive at a small, slightly dank room beneath Polaris House, lit only by a very tiny square window near the rafters in the roof. It smells like stale mothballs. I spot Araminta, Katie and Jane talking quietly together around the table, and Harriet’s on the other side, doodling on her notebook. To my surprise, Bonnie’s there too. She isn’t on the Yearbook Committee, so why is she here? Their hushed tones and hurried whispers come to a halt as I close the door behind me. Araminta locks eyes with me as I approach the table. ‘Well, that was quite the outburst.’
I tuck my hair behind my ear. ‘I know.’ I try and sound bored. ‘I’ll apologize to Audrey as soon as we’re done here.’
‘What happened?’ Harriet looks up from her notebook.
‘I’ll tell you later,’ I mumble, sitting down next to her. There’s a distinct chill that has nothing to do with this draughty old part of the building.
‘We do need to talk about this bloody podcast though,’ says Araminta. She seems really riled up. There’s colour high in her cheeks, and her eyes are wide.
Here we go.
‘What about it?’ I ask, eyeing her up.
‘It’s just not right and, since I’m head girl, I want to make it my priority to get it shut down.’ She nervously bites her nails like she’s not eaten for weeks. ‘Xander’s against it too.’
‘Where is our head boy by the way?’ I ask, looking around.
‘She’s right,’ Bonnie chimes in, cutting me off. ‘How is this anonymous person getting away with it?’
I sigh. I can’t let Araminta work out who’s behind the podcast before I do. ‘Look, I know we’re all pissed off about it – me more than anyone – but it’s all speculation at this point. The person is just going over old ground.’ I pull out my notebook, pointedly laying it on the table. If this Yearbook meeting isn’t going to happen, there are more important things I could be doing. Like finding Audrey to put my guilty conscience to rest. And then discovering the real person behind the podcast.
‘Ivy, why aren’t you more bothered by this? It’s disgusting to be talking about Lola’s death so openly. I heard a group of Year Eights discussing the podcast yesterday and saying they think maybe another student was involved … They’ll suspect one of us next!’ Araminta’s eyes dart round the room. Is she looking for reassurance, or does she genuinely worry about being a suspect?
I’ve known Minty for a long time. She’s one of those people that seem to get away with doing the minimum effort – she always played second fiddle to Lola. She’s never been top dog. Now that she is, she seems to be loving the attention. Still, it’s pretty out of character for Araminta to be this bothered by the podcast. I’m actually surprised she’s not begging to be a guest. She’s totally the sort of person who thrives on school gossip. Actually, the fact that she’s not a guest makes me wonder … maybe she’s the Voice Unknown?
‘Why are you so bothered, Minty?’ I furrow my brows in confusion.
‘I’m not bothered! I just … I don’t know. It’s not right that this anonymous person is dragging all this up when they’ve no real evidence. That’s what the police are for. We all gave our statements. It was horrible that night.’
‘Didn’t you arrive late though?’ Harriet pipes up, looking up from doodling a heart round Cassie’s name, and it stops Araminta mid-rant.
‘What?’ she splutters.
Harriet shrugs. ‘I mean – what about what was said in the podcast? About you not being there when … well, when the whole body-washing-up thing happened.’
‘I was there!’ Araminta says, her voice rising in pitch. Harriet and I exchange a look as Araminta continues. ‘Lola would have hated this – all this gossiping about her. If she wanted to die, then we should just let her rest in peace …’ Her arms flail and red blotches are starting to appear on her neck.
‘Look, are we going to have this meeting or what?’ I snap, interrupting her mid-flow. ‘Some of us have things we need to do.’
‘The Yearbook meeting is about recording school events, Ivy,’ says Araminta, drawing herself up with authority – although it doesn’t quite work with her still-flushed cheeks. ‘If you don’t think this podcast is an important part of that, then maybe you should leave.’
‘Fine.’ I grab my notebook, stuff it in my backpack and throw it over my shoulder. ‘The guys haven’t bothered to come anyway. Maybe they knew something I don’t? Let me know when this is actually going to be about the yearbook, OK?’
‘Wait, Ivy …’ Harriet calls after me.
But I can’t take another second in that room. If this is what the rest of the school year is going to be like, I’m going to be in for a lot of trouble.
18
Audrey
The bus seems to take forever to come and, not for the first time, I internally cuss my dad out for not giving me a car in the UK. I miss my beautiful blue BMW with its buttery soft leather seats and chrome-edged dash. Now I have to stand outside at the bus stop – which doesn’t even have a shelter. Dark clouds are gathering above me. It would be just like this country to pour down with rain once again.
I hop from foot to foot, this time cursing myself for not bringing an umbrella. It’s not exactly like I had a lot of time to plan an outfit – I was just desperate to get out of there – and so I threw on some running shoes and a hoodie over my leggings and grabbed my handbag. I’m not likely to see anyone from school in town, since we’re technically not supposed to leave the grounds. But screw it. I just couldn’t stay there any longer. All that talk about the girl who died was bringing up way too many painful memories. Being accused by Ivy of being behind that creepy-ass podcast, in front of everybody? That was the final straw.
And if they find out I’ve made a break for it … what are they gonna do, kick me out of school?
In fact, would that be such a bad thing? Why do I have to stay? I scramble for my phone to send a message to my dad that I want OUT. But then I remember that then I’d have to live in their awful new house and listen to my mom lecture me on whatever her Goop-inspired craze-du-jour is. Illumen Hall might actually be the lesser of two evils – if I can get a grip on this Lola situation. It might be time for me to learn a bit more about what happened.
The wind picks up, blowing my ponytail into my face. When the bus finally pulls up, I step aboard and the heavens open.
It’s about a half-hour bus ride to town, so I take a deep breath, and then type Lola Radcliffe into Google on my phone.
Several news articles pop up immediately.
BOARDING SCHOOL STUDENT FOUND DEAD IN HALF MOON COVE
SMALL COMMUNITY DEVASTATED BY DEATH OF POPULAR STUDENT
The Magpie Society One for Sorrow Page 9
