Beauty Sleep

by Kathryn Evans

  I sneaked to the kitchen and made some C-plan. Marsha was fast asleep when I got back, with Scrag nestled beside her. I made a towel nest on the floor and lay down quietly so I didn’t disturb them.

  I didn’t sleep.

  Stacey’s message played over and over in my mind. The car crash was her fault and you did not, do not, have never had cancer. What did she mean?

  Marsha and Scrag snored softly in harmony. I wished I could curl up with them and fall into blissful, empty-minded sleep.

  Morning came and I was still staring at the ceiling. I needed the loo so I got to my knees, my back stiff after a night on the floor, and crept out. If there was enough time to go for a run, I’d take the dog with me and probably see Hedge Boy. I could return his dog and everything would be normal again. The dog part at least.

  Back in my room, Marsha had crawled under my bed-covers and there was no sign of the dog, until he poked his head out.

  “Want to come for a walk?” I whispered.

  Marsha’s arms tightened around him but he wriggled free and jumped down. He sat up, his stubby tail dusting the floor with wags.

  “What are you doing?” Marsha murmured.

  “Going for a run, the dog will need to pee.”

  “Oh, yeah, I guess.” She looked at her phone. “God, it’s only five a.m.”

  “Want to come with me? You can go ahead and be lookout.”

  She pulled the cover over her head, muttering, “Are you mad? No one will be up anyway. Use the Rabbit Run if you’re worried.”

  I pulled the covers off her head. “What?”

  “The Rabbit Run. There’s a back door in the ODR – from there, the Rabbit Run crosses to Yellow House. There’s a side gate partway along; it won’t be locked. You can get out that way.”

  “No way,” I said. “A secret passage?”

  “Go away and let me sleep.”

  I tiptoed to the ODR with Scrag in his towel bundle. He wriggled his head free but there was no one in the kitchen so I let him peep out like a cute, furry baby. I eased open the back door. It led to a wooden walkway that crossed a small quad. There was a carved canopy over the top but the sides were open to waist height with wooden window frames filled in with chicken wire. No wonder they called it the Rabbit Run – it was just like a giant, Gothic bunny hutch. A bit creepy, but very cool.

  I walked quickly along and completely missed the gate the first time I passed it. It blended in like it was camouflaged and creaked softly as I opened it. I crossed the quad to a short passage that opened out onto the car park. I set Scrag down and draped the towel round my neck. He pelted off around the side of the building. I hoped he’d caught a sniff of his owner.

  I couldn’t even see Scrag when I reached the corner. A little bit of me was relieved. Maybe he’d found the boy and I wouldn’t have to worry about him any more. About either of them. I started to jog across the tarmac towards the fields and Scrag came bounding back to me.

  “Oh no.”

  He had a rabbit in his mouth. A cute little baby bunny. I stopped running but within seconds he was dropping the poor dead thing at my feet. He sat down, his stumpy tail swishing the grass back and forward.

  “Yeah, thanks but no thanks.”

  He lay on his belly and started to tear the thing apart. I ran on. Who needs to see that first thing in the morning? Mind you, I had wondered how it was he looked so well fed when Hedge Boy was practically a skeleton. I chewed the corner of my lip. What had happened to the boy that made him leave his dog? It was hard to believe Stacey could have had anything to do with it. Then again it was hard to believe any of the things she’d done.

  With a sigh, I ran down to the bottom of the field. My legs were still weak and burned with the effort, but I felt alive. I gazed across the sea as the sun came up. All was calm apart from the odd seagull squawking and the rush of water over pebbles.

  Why couldn’t I just forget about Stacey? I had a new life and she was clearly nuts. But…

  History. We had so much shared history – the things that had happened to me had affected her too. If I hadn’t got ill and been frozen, we’d have just bumbled on with our lives. We’d have gone to college, found jobs, maybe both married a nice guy, had kids. She wouldn’t have joined those activists. She wouldn’t have been involved with the fire. She wouldn’t have gone to prison. She wouldn’t have lived so much of her life without me and made such a horrible mess of it.

  I felt…responsible. Guilt bubbled inside me like a physical thing. I couldn’t forget her because I loved her – even if I didn’t like her much right now. Stacey was like…I was going to say a sister but it was more than that. You don’t choose your family, you choose your friends – you tie those bonds, you make them matter.

  I knew who she had been and I owed that Stacey something. I had to see her. I had to look into her eyes and at least talk to her. Whatever she’d done, mad as it seemed, I at least owed her that. Maybe it was the only way I could draw a line under it all.

  Scrag caught up with me.

  The cut on his face looked okay. He could clearly look after himself, the little rabbit-murderer. If I left him outside, he’d be fine. I didn’t need to take care of him. I had enough to worry about.

  I headed back. He followed me.

  “I can’t look after you,” I said.

  He wagged his whole bottom and panted.

  “You’re obviously fine on your own. You can live off rabbits and run wild and free.”

  He wagged some more and sat back on his hind legs and offered me a paw.

  “Seriously. I can’t have a dog.”

  He rolled on his back.

  What else could I do? I rubbed his belly and picked him up.

  They dragged me along a corridor.

  The dragging was completely unnecessary.

  I figured if I didn’t fight them, they wouldn’t fight me.

  They keyed some numbers into a pad and opened the door to a long corridor of cells, each with a spyhole at eye height. I wanted to look inside, to see who was in there…if anyone. Maybe they were empty; it was very quiet.

  The doors were locked with number pads that glowed a faint, sickly green. I watched them key the numbers into my pad: 07686. The door unlocked with a click and a firm hand on my back guided me inside. Somewhere deep in my foggy brain I felt something was missing from this whole process.

  “Don’t I get read my rights or something?”

  The guard gave a grim shake of his head. “The doctor will tell you all you need to know.”

  He clanged the door shut and left me on my own.

  I looked to the left of the door for the keypad.

  Even I had to smile at my own stupidity. Cells didn’t have locks on the inside.

  And then I registered what he’d said.

  Doctor?

  When I got back to my room, Marsha was still asleep. Scrag jumped onto my bed, completely at home. I tapped my slate to wake it up. I pinched the message icon and started typing before I could change my mind.

  I niid ti sii yii. Cin wi miit?

  As I waited for a reply, I started to freak out a bit that I was making a massive mistake. I had to talk to someone. I put Scrag near Marsha’s head to wake her up. He licked her face until her eyes blinked open. I thought she’d go mad but she said, “You little scamp. Did you miss me, did you?”

  “I did,” I said. “Are you awake? Can I talk to you, about the note from yesterday?”

  Marsha yawned. “The one from your mad friend? You know she went to prison. Look it up…”

  “I know. I already have. Marsha, I need to see her.”

  “What?” She sat up. “Are you crazy? She’s an arsonist! She could have killed you!”

  “I know.”

  Guilt flooded through me again. This time for Alfie, who’d never got his second chance… Could I ever forgive Stacey for that? I pressed my fingers to my eyes but the tears leaked through.

  I breathed hard until I was calm enough to tr
y and explain.

  “I need to understand what she did, Marsha. I need an end to it, one way or another. I mean, what if I bumped into her one day with all this stuff unsaid? I can’t just…”

  “Pass me your slate.”

  “Why?”

  “What did she say? That you never had cancer?”

  I handed it over. She typed a few things in and handed it back to me. “Look. There are literally a million articles on why you were frozen. It sounds to me like your Stacey has lost her marbles.”

  My slate pinged with a message.

  Cin yii git ti brightin in sitirdiy?

  Brighton on Saturday. It was exeat. It might just be possible. Was it a stupid idea? Meeting up with her?

  Whatever she’d done, whoever she was now, I needed to see her so that I could let go and move on properly, without the dark cloud of her betrayal hovering over everything. Marsha peered at the message.

  “Saturday?”

  “Could I go, do you think?” I said.

  “Are you crazy?”

  “It’s exeat, isn’t it? So we get to do what we want? Keisha and Susan are going to the Pavilion, aren’t they? Maybe I could go with them. Get Stacey to meet me there?”

  Something strange passed across Marsha’s face.

  “Would the school let me?” I asked.

  “Not without permission from your guardian.”

  I bit my lip. Then I told Marsha about my last trip to Brighton with Miss Lilly. “She’ll never say yes, will she? Especially not if I tell her I want to meet up with Stacey. She doesn’t trust her at all.”

  “With good reason,” Marsha said. She thought for a bit. “What if you say you’ll disguise yourself somehow? And that we’ll go as a group?”

  “We?”

  “Obviously. Someone’s got to look after you and it’s not going to be those two idiots, is it? Anyway, I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be here. I want to make the most of it. Maybe we could take the dog to the beach?”

  I flung my arms around her. I couldn’t help it. She was ace. Moody but ace. I crossed my fingers that Miss Lilly and school would say yes and sent Stacey a message:

  12 iclick victiriis bidriim.

  It was only later that I realized Marsha had used my slate without Notitia asking for authorization. It was so clever, how it sensed me handing it over. The technology of the future really was amazing.

  I don’t know how long I was left alone. I know I slept. It was light in the cell but I was so knackered nothing much could have kept me awake. I woke to a metallic clanging and my heart beating so hard it nearly broke out of my ribcage.

  A doctor came in. At least, I think he was a doctor. He was wearing a short-sleeved white coat and pushing a metal trolley. I considered ramming it into him and making a run for it, but a couple of things stopped me. Firstly, he was about sixty and I didn’t want to hurt him. Secondly, there was a monster of a man behind him who could easily have been the one who shoved me in the van and booted Scrag in the head. A little knot of anger tightened in my gut. I didn’t do any trolley-ramming, but I crossed my arms and faced the wall.

  “Come on, young man, nothing to worry about. Just roll up your sleeve and it’ll all be over in a tick.”

  I looked at him.

  “Your sleeve,” he said again. “Pull it up, there’s a good lad.”

  “Why?”

  “Blood tests. Won’t take a minute. Not scared of needles, are you? Big chap like you?”

  I looked at the trolley. The top was loaded with sterile needle packs. What the hell was this place? I thought back over the last few days. Did they think I was an addict? Or was this a mental home? Had that girl at the school dobbed me in? Said I was a pervert or something?

  My head was so cloudy I couldn’t work it out.

  “I know it’s not pleasant but it’ll be over in a jiffy if you just pop your arm out. Or, if you’re really worried, I can ask Jimmy here to hold your arm steady?”

  I could imagine what Jimmy-here holding my arm steady meant. I pulled up my sleeve and let him take my blood.

  He patted a plaster over the little hole and said, “One last thing. A few pictures for the records.”

  That was the kind of thing you expected in prison. Mug shots. The doctor stepped back and another man came in from the corridor with a tripod and a camera big enough to film a Hollywood blockbuster. He made me stand this way and that and took loads of pictures before he was finally satisfied.

  “Not too bad, hey?” the doctor said. “You see, a lot of fuss over nothing.”

  And they left me alone to stare at the ceiling.

  I popped back to check on Scrag before prep. He’d done a wee on my floor but I could hardly blame him for that. I mopped it up as best I could before sending a message to Miss Lilly. I worded it super carefully:

  Some of the girls are going to the Pavilion on Saturday – is it okay if I go with them?

  Straight away she messaged back saying exactly what I’d expected:

  That sounds fun and I’d love to say yes but after our last trip to Brighton I’m not sure it’s a good idea.

  I typed: I thought about that. I have a plan.

  Hold on, I’ll Skype you…

  I had no idea what that was.

  What?

  Just hit the green answer button when you’re asked.

  I bit my thumbnail while I waited.

  My slate made a musical bleeping noise. I pressed the green phone and there she was, smiling at me.

  “Hey! You look great, Laura. The uniform really suits you. What’s your plan then?”

  “We want to go to the Pavilion, me and a girl called Marsha and a couple of others. They’re really nice.”

  “Marsha?”

  “Yeah, she was the one who helped me lug my trunk to my room on my first day.”

  Miss Lilly laughed and just the sound of it made me smile. “I remember, the bossy one!”

  “That’s her.” I smiled. “We thought if I braided my hair back and wore a cap, no one would recognize me, especially not in a group and without you drawing attention to us.”

  She laughed again. “You cheeky thing. I don’t know, Laura. I’m not sure… I had wondered if you’d want to come home for a visit – you could bring a friend?”

  I’d forgotten she’d suggested that. I bit my lip, worried I’d offended her. “Sorry, none of the other girls are going home. I didn’t want to stand out.”

  “I understand but…”

  “You know it was really you who got mobbed, not me.”

  “Hmmm…” She thought for a minute and I made a pleading face.

  Then she said, “I suppose there are some things I can do to make sure you’re safe… Okay, but you have to stick to my rules, all right?”

  “Promise.”

  “The Pavilion only, no wandering off. And you get dropped off and picked up.”

  I felt so guilty. She was worried about my safety and she didn’t know the half of it. What was I doing? I wasn’t a risk-taker – I followed in the wake of trouble, I didn’t seek it.

  Miss Lilly said, “I’ll send someone down to keep an eye.”

  “Who?”

  “You won’t even know they’re there. I wouldn’t embarrass you in front of your new friends. I’ll write Madam Hobbs a message that I’m happy for you to go out with a surreptitious escort.”

  Someone tried to open my door; I’d locked it to stop anyone from walking in on Scrag. They knocked sharply. Scrag yipped at me. I put a hand on his muzzle so Miss Lilly wouldn’t hear and said, “There’s someone at my door. I’d better go.”

  “Okay, I’ll make arrangements. I’m glad you’re settling in. And don’t go out without your phone.”

  “I won’t! Thank you, you’re the best.”

  Whoever it was knocked again and Scrag ran in a circle, yapping. I put my finger to my lips. “Quiet, little one.”

  I opened the door a tiny crack. It was Marsha, looking decidedly brighter th
an she had done earlier.

  “I’ve been to see Madam Hobbs. Now you need to get your guardian to agree.”

  I grinned at her enthusiasm. “She just said yes – as long as there’s a group of us. Do you think Keisha and Susan will mind?”

  “They’ll be delighted. Keisha will have us all organized with little backpacks and cucumber sandwiches.”

  “Miss Lilly is going to send some people to keep an eye on us. That might complicate things.”

  “Be grateful. If your long-lost pal turns out to be an axe-murderer, at least we’ll have some muscle on our side.”

  I hugged her. I had her on my side and that meant the world. She was blushing when I let go, and then her face changed. She looked like I’d slapped her.

  “I told you, people like me don’t have friends. I’ll be leaving soon, so don’t rely on me, Laura.” I felt even more guilty. Not just about Miss Lilly but because Marsha was trying to deal with her own stuff and was still willing to help me out.

  I said, “Thanks, Marsha – for this. It means a lot. If there’s anything I can do in return…”

  “I’m only going for the dog,” she said.

  “Talking of which, I’d better take him out for a quick run.”

  Marsha raised her eyebrows. I knew it was risky, but he’d been shut in all day. It’d be another three hours until prep and dinner were done. Marsha wrapped Scrag in my towel while I checked the corridor was clear. Then she held court in the ODR while I slipped out through the Rabbit Run. I’d just put Scrag on the ground when a voice boomed across the car park.

  “Is that a dog?”

  The distinct tone and tracksuit of Madam Hoosier.

  “Laura, isn’t it? New girl?”

  “Yes, Miss. Madam. I think he’s lost.”

  “Oh right. Not yours then?”

  “Of course not, Miss. Madam.” Why couldn’t I get that right? Madam. Madam. Madam. “I was going for a run and I just saw him.”

  “Before prep?”

  “I got confused about the time. Sorry. Shall I take him with me, down to the field?”