‘What?’said Leon.
‘I said, definitely a safety hazard.’
‘I get that. What I’m saying is, if you knew about this risk of electric shocks, why didn’t you speak up before? Why didn’t you warn us? Greg could have been killed!’
Byron shrugged.
‘You never asked,’he said dismissively. ‘And even if I hadmentioned it, can you honestly say you would have listened?’
‘You nob-head!’shouted Curtis. ‘Our mate, Greg, nearly got fried and all you can do is shrug and whinge and complain that we don’t listen! Who are you anyway? Why are you here? I tell you what, you weren’t invited -’
‘No one was invited,’said Greg groggily. ‘We were made to come, remember?'
‘But he wasn't,' said Curtis, jabbing a finger in Byron's direction. 'Our detention had nothing to do with him. He's here of his own free will. Weirdo. They arrest stalkers, you know?'
'I'm not a stalker,' said Byron.
'Oh, yeah? You're stalking Miss Nevis, otherwise why would you be here?'
Byron didn't say anything. Curtis threw his hands in the air.
'This is all mash-up!’ he said.‘I can’t believe I’m trapped in some skanky art room, with crazy electric hot wires and poisoned water and no food and King of The Freakin' Odd Squad lurking round every corner.’
He flicked Byron in the chest and stomped off. Byron just stood there. I could see the hurt in his eyes. He was right about one thing. Even if he had mentioned the risk of electric shocks, they wouldn't have listened to him. And there was no doubt he was odd, but no one wants to be told that, do they? And as for stalking Miss Nevis? The boys in my form group were always going on about having crushes on teachers, which teachers they thought were hot, what they’d like to do to them - which wasn’t the same as stalking.
‘We can’t keep arguing,’I said, trying to catch Leon's eye: the Dream Team takes control. ‘Let’s just be grateful for the fact that Greg is okay. We have a roof over our heads. We're dry. We've got heat and light. We simply need to stay calm and look out for each other.'
'Definitely,' said Leon. 'Rather than argue, let's be practical. Hunger is clearly an issue, so let's do another search. Greg and I will try to break through the door to the link corridor. Kate, Gemma - you have another hunt around the art room. Maybe Miss Nevis left a packet of biscuits or something?'
With renewed optimism, we set to work. It felt good to be purposeful. Leon was right - leadership was necessary. As soon as people were organised and occupied, there was no bickering. Gemma and I went through every drawer in Miss Nevis's desk. We found some stale chewing gum and a boiled sweet, but that was it. Unfortunately, Leon and Greg had no luck with the door.
'It's one of those super heavy fire doors,' said Leon. 'Even a man-mountain like Greg couldn't bust it, especially with the water pushing against it.'
It was tough. We all knew that on the other side of that door, we'd have access to vending machines, water fountains, and an entire canteen full of food.
'Maybe if we all chipped in?' said Greg. 'The weight of six of us might do the trick?'
'Worth a try,' said Leon.
He clapped his hands.
'Come on, people! Let's bust this door!'
He said it like we could do anything, like it was all going to be okay. His positivity was endearing. If I'd fancied him before, I was in awe of him now. And whether his love-life was‘complicated’or not, I knew I was in love. I suddenly wanted to tell him, wanted to let him know just how much I thought of him, felt my emotions bloom and glow.
And then, in an instant, everything went black.
PART TWO - THE DARK
Chapter Sixteen
The lights in the town went down first. Street lamps. Shop signs. Living room lights. Section by section they blacked out: vump vump vump. We watched it happen, and like a wave, we knew it was coming for us.
The darkness.
‘No one move!’said Leon.
‘I can’t see a thing!’Gemma hollered. ‘What's going on?’
‘Power cut!’said Greg.
I held my arms in front of my face, but I could barely see them. I could hear the others fumbling, knocking into furniture. Greg swore. Gemma accused someone of treading on her foot. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder.
‘Close your eyes,’ whispered a voice - Bryon’s. ‘Scrunch them up then look again. It’ll help your optic nerve to adjust.’
I shut my eyes tight, blinked, rubbed them, and gradually began to see shapes and shadows. Although it was only dusk, the thundery sky had robbed the last of the daylight. It was dark enough.
‘Candles,’I said. ‘I think there are candles in the supply cupboard. Miss Nevis kept them in a tin. She used the wax for batik work. I know where they are, I think.’
‘I’ll help you look,’said Byron.
Leon marched in front of him.
‘No,’he said, barging Byron out of the way. 'I'll help.'
Together, Leon and I navigated the room's obstacles and headed towards the cupboard. We found the tin beneath a pile of tissue paper. There were only four candles inside and one of them was pretty much a stump, but it was better than nothing. Curtis, naturally, had a lighter on him. I lit the first candle. Gemma offered up another, but Leon snatched it away.
‘We can’t burn them all,’he said.‘We need to ration. One at a time. We might have a whole night to get through, remember. How long do you reckon each one lasts for?’
I hesitated.
‘When I was doing batik lessons,’I said,‘I think one candle lasted two hours.’
‘In that case,’said Leon - I could almost hear the sums whirring round his head -‘we’ve got seven hours at most.’
He placed the lid on the tin, with the rest of the candles inside, and tucked it under his arm.
‘Don’t you trust us?’said Gemma.
‘I just think they need to go somewhere safe, somewhere central. And the phones - anyone who’s got battery left needs to unlock their pass-codes and put their phones on Miss Nevis's desk. If vital items are in a central location, we’ll know where to find them in an emergency.’
‘Like, this isn’t already an emergency?’said Greg.
‘You know what I mean. Phones, everyone. Come on.’
‘That includes you, Byro',’said Curtis, scowling.
Chapter Seventeen
We sat close to the candles. Leon checked his phone for news updates.
‘Further chaos for residents of the flooded Slode River area,' he read. 'Water damage has caused underground electrical fires, resulting in widespread power loss. Fire fighters are working to control the blaze, but officials have warned that restoration of service could be days away, leaving thousands without electricity and heating.’
'I suppose there's a bright side,' said Greg, examining the burns on his fingers. 'At least there'll be no more electrocutions.'
‘Hey, there's more,’said Leon. ‘We’ve made the news. Check this out: In another twist, it emerges that six students are trapped in Hurst College. Karen Archer, mother of one of the affected, says they are desperately worried: ‘My daughter Kate is bright, kind and wonderful. She’s got everything going for her. We just want her and her friends to come home safely.’’
Hearing my mum’s name, I felt overwhelmed by emotion. I knew that she and my family were safe, but it wasn’t the same as touching, seeing and hearing them. Leon took my hand and squeezed it.
'We'll be okay,' he said. 'And it's nice to know everyone's thinking about us, isn’t it?'
Then I felt Byron lean on my other side. He whispered over my shoulder, to me, but in some ways, I think, to himself:
'How lucky,' he said. 'To have a mum who describes you as‘bright, kind and wonderful’.’
The view from the window was eerie. It was as if Hurst, with its twinkling lights and busy roads, had simply been erased, wiped off the grid, a black nothing. As we sat in our huddle, listening to the rain, Gemma and Greg started str
oking each other's faces. I tried not to let it bother me, but it was hard. I was desperate for affection, for some kind of closeness. Occasionally, Leon’s leg brushed against mine. Each time his knee approached, my stomach flipped. In those moments, it didn’t matter that everything else was a mess.
The wind grew stronger. It ripped through the trees and blew the rain in different directions. Occasionally, the windows clattered under the strain, like they were ready to shatter. When this happened we all huddled a little closer. If an entire concrete bridge had washed away, who knew what could happen to the flimsy, ageing structure that was Vis A - never mind architecture awards.
‘I’d kill for a packet of crisps!’said Curtis. ‘Or even just a can of pop, or my Nan’s roast potatoes - '
We'd given up on the idea of breaking through to the link corridor. The power cut had been such a shock, and in all honesty, it was enough of an effort just to sit up and keep talking. We were drained, weak from thirst and hunger, tired from the stress.
‘Or what about curry?’Curtis continued.‘Oh, man, curry! How good would that be?’
‘Give it rest, will you?’said Greg.
Curtis flipped him a finger.
‘Do that again and I'll flip you,’said Gemma.
In an instant, the tension flared again, more silly bickering that wasn’t going to help anyone. Curtis versus Greg. Gemma versus Curtis. Byron versus, well, everyone. I couldn't bear the sound of the arguing, so in protest, I stood up and moved away. I went and sat alone by the radiator, which was now stone cold.
'Do they annoy you as much as they annoy me?' said a voice from the darkness.
Byron again.
‘Spend concentrated time in other people’s company, Kate, and I guarantee you’ll discover they’re not what they seem. Half an hour with Curtis and you’d think he’s a born entertainer with a wild streak. Five hours in a flooded art room and you’d rather be sniffing arsenic with Bin Laden.’
I gasped.
‘You can’t say that!’
‘Already did. Curtis La Mont isn't the light-hearted joker people think he is. I assure you, Kate, he has a sinister side.'
‘What is it with you? Why are you always so, so...blunt?’
‘Am I?’
‘Yes. Like, you say things…you just come out with whatever’s in your head…regardless of whether it’s socially acceptable -’
‘Socially acceptable isn’t really my thing.’
‘No kidding.’
‘Sorry.’
‘You don’t have to apologise. Just - just watch what you say in future.’
‘Or not. The thing is, Kate, I don't really care what they think. I don't need their acceptance. They're nothing to me. They can live out their little lives, but I know the truth. I know what really goes on.'
'Like what?'
'Like, your hero, Leon. Did you know he's scared witless of his older brother? That his whole life revolves around trying to live up his brother's knuckle-head expectations? I saw them fighting in a car park the other day. Well, it wasn't exactly fighting, more like Leon getting pummelled. The point is, any sane person would despise someone who beats them up on a daily basis, but the way Leon talks about his brother, you'd think he’s some kind of superhero - '
I listened, blinked, remembered the bruises on Leon's ribs and how he'd tried to cover them up.
'Even if that’s true,' I argued, 'it doesn't make Leon a bad person.'
'No, but it illustrates my point. Leon, like so many other people, is selective with the truth. He doesn't want the world to know that he's bullied. It wouldn't sit well on the football pitch, wouldn't fit with his team captain image - '
'But what does it matter to you? It's not like you and Leon are friends or anything - '
'It creates an imbalance, Kate. Imbalance bothers me. You see, while Leon spins his fake life and has people tripping over themselves to be friends with him, I speak the truth…and get ignored.'
Suddenly it clicked. Byron was jealous. All his comments, his criticisms, they were fuelled by jealousy. He was jealous of Leon, of Gemma, of all of us. He was putting us down, to make himself feel better.
‘There's no need to feel threatened by Leon Prentice,’I asserted. 'He's a good person.'
Byron glared at me over the rims of his glasses.
‘I thought you’d say that. Maybe your emotions are clouding your judgement? I mean, you’re obviously not seeing what I see, that he’s too in love with himself to fall in love with you.'
I blinked, felt spiked.
'You know, he's cheated on ever girl he's ever been with? Then denied it, of course. I wouldn't trust my heart with Leon Prentice anymore than I'd trust it with a lunatic. He's a player. He's deceitful and he can't stop himself.'
‘That’s–that’s wayharsh,’I said, trying to keep hold of my feelings.
‘You’ll see.’
Just then, one of the phones on Miss Nevis's desk started to flash and vibrate. After a moment's hesitation, Byron grabbed it.
‘Mine,’he said.
I was too stunned and upset to react. I watched as he clutched the handset to his ear andbacked into the store cupboard. He pulled the door closed, so that I couldn’t see or hear him. For one who went on about truth, it looked a little suspicious. Curiosity got the better of me. I lingered and listened.
‘Hello?’I heard him say.
A pause
‘That’s me,’he said.
Another pause while the person on the line spoke. I couldn’t hear specifics, but it sounded like a man.
Then Byron again:
‘Oh, we’re all fine.’
A longer pause followed by a rustling sound.
‘In the cupboard? Whereabouts?’
More rustling.
But before I could hear anymore, Leon waved me over.
Chapter Eighteen
‘You okay?’said Leon. ‘Was Byron bothering you?’
‘Uh, no, it’s fine,' I said stiffly.
‘Let me know if the cold gets too much, okay? I don’t feel it, so you can have my hoodie.’
‘Thanks.'
‘Sit down, Kate. Come and chill. You know, I’ve been meaning to ask - do you think you will be able to do some artwork for my band? When we get out of here,I mean -’
I gave a vague nod. I was still struggling to process Byron’s remarks.
‘Sure.’
‘It's good you've got proper ambitions, with your art and stuff. I admire that. Most girls say they’re only interested in getting famous or selling a story and making a ton of money. Or marryinga player from the Premier League. It’s solame.’
‘Maybe the girls youknow say that,’I snapped. ‘But I have plenty of friends who want proper careers.’
Leon paused.
‘Hey. I was only saying,’he said.
I hadn’t intended to sound so sharp, but my defences were up. Leon laced his hands behind his head, did that thing where his leg brushed against mine.
‘You obviously think I’ve been mixing with the wrong cliques,’he said. ‘But we all make mistakes, eh?’
I was about to respond, when I felt a breath at my side. I turned and realised that, once again, Byron had sneaked up beside me.
‘Kate, you’ve got a message,’he said, passing me my phone. ‘I heard it
buzz.’
‘Oh, right. Thanks.’
I took the phone, checked the screen.
Who was it? My mum? My sister? A rescue team?
Marshall.
Oh, God! A message from Marshall Finch was the last thing I needed.
K8. Me scrd. Where R U? Luv U like n0 other grl. Tell me ur safe. XXXXXXXXXXX
The words made me shiver. It was hard to believe that after everything Marshall had done, he was still trying to kid himself that we had a future together. I saw Gemma watching me through the candlelight. She had that look on her face. She knew.
‘He’s texted you, hasn’t he?' she whispered. 'You always pull the same
face when you get messages from him. Promise me you won't reply.’
‘No, I -’
‘You know what he’s like, Kate. It’s called harassment.’
I sighed, shook my head. She was right.
‘Okay,’I said.
I deleted the text.
‘Gone. Happy?’
‘I’m only looking out for you, you know. As for your other misplaced crush -’
I guessed she was referring to Leon.
‘I’d stay well away if I were you,’she continued. ‘Unless you want another psycho boyfriend on your hands -’
Psycho? I realised she didn't mean Leon at all. She meant Byron.
‘He’snot my crush,’I said quickly.
Gemma raised an eyebrow.
‘I was only talking to him,’I argued. ‘We weren’t...I don’t...’
Chapter Nineteen
With my head in a muddle, I stood up. I was desperate to pee. I couldn't hold it anymore, so I crept through the darkness, down to the stairwell. When I was certain no one was about, I pulled down my jeans, squatted and pissed into the pool of black water. The relief was instant. But as I dressed and darted back up the steps, yet again, Byron appeared.
‘Doesn’t know when to stop,does he?’he said.
I tried to squeeze past without catching his eye, but he blocked my path, like he was desperate to hold my attention, start a conversation.
'I'm talking about your ex.’
‘My ex - ?’
‘The text you just got.’
I blinked.
‘Did you - ?’
‘No, I didn’t read it. I don’t pry into other people’s messages. It was obvious from the look on your face. Honestly, they say I have problems? But Marshall Finch is in a whole different league. Thirty-eight texts in one lunch break?’
He glanced at the ceiling.
‘If I were you, Kate, I’d have him arrested. There’s something called a restraining order, you know. With one of those, he won’t be able to go within a mile of you. I read about it in one of those stupid crime magazines.’
Rain In My Heart Page 6
