by James Dawson
‘But how could we do it?’ asked Delilah. ‘How could we murder the most popular girl in school and get away with it? There has to be a way.’
‘We could all provide alibis for each other,’ Lis suggested.
‘We could. They’d have to be airtight though,’ mused Kitty. ‘Maybe we could wait until someone’s parents were on holiday, or something, so we could believably all be in one place at the time of death and make sure we could come and go without anyone knowing.’
Jack ran a hand through his mousy hair. ‘My mum and Amber are always away overnight for Amber’s dance contests, so that could work.’
Drawing tiny elaborate doodles on a notebook, Delilah looked distracted but remained focused on the conversation. ‘We wouldn’t want to kill her anywhere near any of our houses, obviously.’
‘And we can hardly follow her around, waiting for her to be alone in a dark alley,’ Jack laughed. ‘It’s not as if we’re inconspicuous.’
‘Hmmm . . . Maybe we could arrange for her to meet us somewhere?’ Delilah suggested as she continued with her doodles.
An idea occurred to Lis. ‘I’m pretty sure I have Laura’s email address . . .’
Kitty laughed. ‘Nah, even from a fake account, they could trace where the email had originated.’
‘Really? Forget it then.’
‘No, it’s a good idea. We could write a letter instead of an email. A print-out from a school printer wouldn’t incriminate any of us as long as we didn’t handle the paper,’ said Kitty.
‘We should totally write the note from Danny!’ Jack said eagerly, popping up onto his knees.
Lis felt distinctly strange at the thought of dragging Danny’s name into things. Although he’d have his own alibi, he’d no doubt be put through hell.
‘No,’ stated Delilah, to Lis’s relief.
‘I agree,’ Kitty added. ‘Danny’s OK. I haven’t got a problem with him.’
‘Say it’s from Nasima Bharat,’ Delilah breathed.
‘Good call!’ Jack threw himself back onto the sofa. He was a bundle of energy, barely able to sit still for a second. ‘Frankly, that bitch has it coming.’
Lis was drawn in to what was essentially a problem-solving exercise. How can you control all the variables surrounding a murder? The police, the body, the weapons? It was harder than any SAT question. She flipped her hair back and squinted in concentration. ‘What about poison? Then there’d be no weapon.’
‘Yeah,’ said Kitty. ‘Could work. But how would we get her to take it?’
‘She’s a teenage binge-drinking statistic! Spike her drink!’ laughed Jack.
‘Brilliant, Jack! Do you have any cyanide?’ grinned Delilah.
‘No, smart-arse, but I’m sure a load of Cillit Bang would do the trick!’
Lis rolled back onto the rug, looking up at the ceiling. ‘She’d taste it straight away. She’d never drink it.’
‘I dunno . . .’ Kitty said, not missing a beat. ‘Have you ever tasted WKD Blue? Cillit Bang can’t be much worse!’
Not for the first time, the group broke into uncontrollable laughter.
‘OK, OK!’ Kitty commanded the group to attention. ‘So, what have we got so far? We send her a letter, maybe from Nasima, asking her to go somewhere . . .’
‘Right,’ Jack confirmed.
‘And then what if we make it look like an accident out in the copse or something? We could make it seem like she’s been drinking. A blow to the head could look like she’d fallen over by mistake, and we wouldn’t even have to work out how to dispose of the corpse.’
Corpse. Lis shivered. What a cold, inhuman word. They were talking about a human body. A dead, human body. Laura’s dead, human body. It’s only a game, she reminded herself.
‘I like it. You’re a genius!’ Delilah finally left her doodle and kissed Kitty on the forehead.
‘Wouldn’t the police be able to tell it wasn’t an accidental injury?’ Lis queried.
‘Probably not. There is no CSI: Hollow Pike,’ Jack said with a grin.
Lis laughed. Despite the gory context, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun. There was such a glow in the room. From the limited time she’d spent with Laura and her girls, Lis doubted they ever had this type of uninhibited fun. With them, she’d been so wary of the other girls’ judgement that she hadn’t relaxed for a second. In Kitty’s attic, Lis didn’t feel judged for anything: her clothes, her hair, who she liked or didn’t like . . .
‘If we’re going to fake an accident we probably shouldn’t leave a note either, or Nasima will deny sending it and the police will get suspicious,’ Jack pointed out. ‘Maybe we could text her instead and then pry her phone from her cold dead hands?’
‘That could work, although the police would certainly realise her phone was missing,’ Kitty responded. ‘Of course, there’s no reason why one of us couldn’t go with her into the copse while others waited there.’
‘A trap?’ Lis asked.
‘Yeah,’ Kitty continued. ‘You could pretend to forgive her for the email thing and carry on hanging out with her. She’d follow you into the copse for sure.’
Lis hadn’t expected such a pivotal role in the plot. She sat up, unsure how to react. The others looked at her expectantly, almost as if this was some sort of initiation test she was unaware of. ‘Yeah. I suppose so,’ she said finally, ‘although I’m not sure I could convince Laura to come with me. I’m a terrible actress.’
‘Anyway,’ Jack started, ‘donking her on the head’s not good enough. I want her to suffer . . .’
The knife-like term suffer twisted in Lis’s gut.
‘I think we should maybe do it at half term. It would be easier to convince her to come into the copse then,’ Kitty suggested.
‘Everyone knows that’s where they hide all their booze and fags,’ Jack added. ‘It would be easy to get her to go there.’
Delilah snuggled in Kitty’s lap. ‘The trouble is, darling, dog walkers and stuff go through the copse until after dark. Someone would see – unless we used the old rubbish dump, maybe?’
Lis felt queasy. What had started as a game was beginning to seem a bit morbid.
‘That’s magnificent,’ Kitty agreed. ‘Throw her over the edge and the whole town would think the silly drunken girl had fallen to her death in a tragic accident.’
Lis remembered a time long ago when she and Sarah had gone walking on Anglesey. While running through sand dunes, free spirited, she’d come across a badly injured baby seagull. She could still hear it’s shrill alarm call, crying to its absent mother for rescue. She recalled Sarah, older and wiser, reaching forwards to put the helpless creature out of its misery, certain it couldn’t be nursed back to health. Even with the knowledge that Sarah was acting out of kindness, Lis had been unable to bear the thought of snuffing out a living creature’s light, and she’d turned away, unable to watch.
Laura Rigg was no helpless creature, but Lis knew that when the time came to push her over the edge, she would still remember that seagull. She would not kill a living thing.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Jack.
Without even looking in a mirror, Lis knew she’d gone ghostly pale. ‘We can’t really kill Laura.’ The words stuck at the back of her throat, coming out almost like a confession. How ironic: confessing that she didn’t want to kill someone!
There was a second of silence and then the others burst into hysterical laughter.
‘Oh, poor Lis!’ Kitty managed through her tears of hilarity.
‘Of course we can’t really kill Laura! Can you imagine? “Hi, Laura, would you stand still while we beat you to death?”’ Delilah asked with exaggerated politeness.
Jack gave Lis a little hug. ‘We do this sort of thing all the time!’
‘Plotting fiendish plans and terrible schemes!’ announced Delilah in a theatrical deep voice.
‘I am truly sorry, Lis.’ Kitty smiled. ‘Welcome to our twisted brand of fun! Too dark?’
<
br /> Relief swelled inside. Lis shook her head, wondering when she’d undergone such a humour bypass. She hoped the others didn’t think she was a total moron. It seemed that, whatever friendship group you were in, there was just a different set of rules to understand.
‘Seriously!’ Jack laughed. ‘Can you imagine me in prison? I wouldn’t survive an hour!’
Delilah collected up four cups, ready to provide fresh tea. Then she spoke softly, not facing the group, ‘Joking aside, would you do it though? If you had the chance, would you kill Laura Rigg?’
The room went very quiet. Lis looked to the others; as the newcomer, she wasn’t going to offer up her thoughts first and she already knew her own answer: no.
Kitty sat up straight. ‘If I knew I’d get away with it, I’d kill her in a second.’
‘Me too,’ said Jack. ‘I’d be doing the world a favour.’
All three now looked to Lis. She paused, trying to conjure a diplomatic answer. ‘School would be a better place without her.’
A wave of guilt unexpectedly washed over her. For some reason, Lis felt that she’d just signed Laura’s death warrant.
Belonging
The expression on Laura Rigg’s face was priceless. Striding down the corridor alongside Kitty, Jack and Delilah, Lis spotted her nemesis near the lockers. People were staring – hell, eyes were hanging out of heads – but just as Lis had predicted, being part of the edgy tribe felt secure, bordering on powerful. She liked it.
Her new unit was almost the parallel of Laura’s ‘In Crowd’. They were the ‘Out Crowd’ – something which Lis decided was actually much cooler. Much like the In Crowd, Kitty, Delilah and Jack strutted around the school, now with Lis in tow. When Laura blew by, people took notice. Equally, when Kitty walked in, you couldn’t ignore her. It seemed to Lis that Kitty and Delilah had realised that keeping their heads down didn’t work; people were going to target them regardless, so they may as well have a little fun with it. If people were going to talk, give them something to talk about.
As they reached the lockers, Lis smiled, daring to push past Laura. She shared the burden of Laura’s cruelty with the others and was less of a victim as a result. Maybe there was some mathematical formula for it: vulnerability times mockery divided by support, or something.
Recovering from her shock, Laura’s face twisted into her usual smirk. ‘Aw, that’s sweet. The witches made a new friend!’
Lis stopped and turned to face her. If only Laura knew about their detailed plans to kill her. She wouldn’t be smiling then.
‘That’s right, Laura, but I’m surprised you know what a friend is!’
Behind her she heard Jack laugh quietly.
Nasima weighed in, ‘Maybe she’s a lesbian too?’
Lis flexed her new-found bravery. ‘Nasima, why are you always such a sheep? You’re the only Pakistani pupil in our class. Don’t you know what it feels like to be different?’
An angry look flashed across her face. ‘Just because I’m Pakistani doesn’t mean I’m a lesbian! That is well racist.’
Delilah stepped forward rolling her eyes. ‘Don’t waste your breath, Lis. If she ever had a brain cell it would have died of loneliness by now.’
‘Losers,’ Laura said bitterly. ‘How’s your pikey dad, Bloom?’
‘He’s fine, thank you, Laura,’ Delilah replied sweetly. ‘But how are you? Just between us girls, you’re looking a little . . . tired.’
Delilah’s soft insult hit the target.
Laura’s face fell like lead. ‘Freaks!’ With a swish of her chestnut locks, she strode away in the opposite direction.
‘Nice comeback!’ Kitty called after her.
Lis laughed and her new comrades laughed with her.
Later, Lis found herself at the back of a science lab with very little idea of what was going on. She excelled at English and foreign languages and, while her grades were always just-above-average in Science and Maths, it took an almost superhuman effort for Lis to stay on top of these subjects.
She was vaguely aware of what she had to do, but had absolutely no idea why she was doing it. She was meant to be burning magnesium in a sealed container, but observed that everyone else seemed to be weighing their little pots. She cursed her daydreaming. As none of her new friends were in her set for Chemistry, she felt distinctly alone.
Plucking up the courage to ask Dr Maloney for assistance, she started to make her way around the workbench but was stopped dead by Danny Marriott. Her brain turned into melting toffee and she managed to formulate only a small coughing sound. He’d stepped into that important half a metre of personal space. It was accidental, but her heart pounded at the intimacy of his warm breath on her forehead.
‘Sorry,’ he said, stepping back.
Her brain desperately tried to reboot and think of anything sensible to say. ‘That’s all right. No worries.’ She struggled to meet his turquoise eyes.
‘You were about to do your experiment wrong.’
She smiled, blushing deeply at the same time. ‘You were watching me?’
It was his turn to blush. Lis grinned further as he tripped over his words.
‘Well, er, you were sitting right beside me. You looked miles away . . .’
The simple fact that Danny had given her even a minute’s thought warmed Lis a million times more than the array of Bunsen burners around her.
‘You’re right, I was daydreaming,’ Lis admitted. Then she grinned. ‘And I forgot you used to be a geek! Tell me, Danny, what am I meant to be doing?’
‘Yeah, yeah . . . keep it quiet. We’re meant to be proving how a change of state won’t affect the mass of the chemical components.’
Lis bit her lip and shook her head slightly. She squirmed, not enjoying her ignorance in front of Danny.
‘It’s easy,’ he continued. ‘Weigh your little pot, then burn off the magnesium and your pot should still weigh the same.’
‘Oh, I get it. Even though you can’t see the magnesium, it’s still there.’
‘Exactly. The homework essay is all about car exhaust fumes. Our test shows how damaging the fumes are to air quality. If your pot doesn’t the weigh the same, the test has gone wrong somewhere – probably the lid wasn’t on tight enough.’
Lis smiled broadly as Danny’s train of thought galloped away with him. She was reminded of her epiphany in Kitty’s attic. She was pretty sure Danny couldn’t talk like this around Cameron or Bobsy for fear of ridicule. Maybe that was where that little bit of sadness in his eyes came from.
‘Are you laughing at me?’
‘No, it’s great! Cool, rugby team Danny Marriott is secretly Science Boy!’
He turned, looking around himself, now clearly paranoid. Lis knew the importance of concealing your cleverness only too well. Clever isn’t cool.
‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. I’m the girl who sold her imaginary baby on eBay, or whatever, remember?’
He stifled a laugh. ‘Oh, yeah, I forgot about your secret past.’
‘You didn’t believe it, did you?’
‘God, no! I thought that Laura had finally lost the plot. It was bound to happen sooner or later.’
Lis giggled quietly, aware that Dr Maloney was on patrol not far away.
Danny went on, ‘But seriously, watch yourself around Laura. Her little mates are scared of her for a reason. I’m a bit scared of her myself to be honest . . . and hanging out with Kitty and Delilah won’t help.’
Lis frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Danny’s eyes widened. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I really like them. I went to primary school with them, but all those rumours . . . People say they worship Satan! Pretty dark stuff!’
Lis forced a smile to remain stretched across her face. Did Danny really believe that stuff? The cold possibility that Danny was no better than Cameron or Laura flitted through her mind.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Come on . . . They are pretty weird. If you hang around
with them, people will take the piss.’
‘I think that’s the difference between you and me, Danny,’ Lis stated calmly. ‘I just don’t care any more! I can’t pretend to like someone as vile as Laura. You can hang around with those muppets if you like, but I’m out.’
Danny looked like a kicked puppy and she wondered if she’d gone too far, but at that moment, Dr Maloney drifted by. Lis grasped her beaker and headed off to find the weighing scales, leaving Danny hanging at the workbench, dumbstruck as she walked away.
School was a more comfortable purgatory now that Lis didn’t dread break times any more, and the weekend came around with fantastic speed. Jack worked for a few hours each Saturday in Fulton at the dubious sounding Bagelicious and Delilah had explained that, to keep Jack from killing himself, they usually stopped by for a while to ease his boredom.
After they’d eaten, the girls trotted down the high street. It was a tragic scene. A number of the shops were boarded up entirely, while others stood in various states of ruin, with faded, chipped signs creaking in the wind. They had passed at least three bargain shops which proudly declared that all stock was ‘Only £1!’ (or in one case ‘Only 99p’). Each of these stores had piles of tacky merchandise stacked up outside.
There seemed to be one large restaurant – an Italian called Luigi’s – which represented every Italian racial stereotype known to man and looked like it hadn’t been decorated since the eighties. There were also a disproportionate number of pubs for such a small town. So far, they’d passed The Cloven Hoof, The Slaughtered Lamb and The Green Man.
‘That’s why all the shops are so knackered,’ explained Delilah, waving at all the pubs. ‘Friday night is like Sodom and Gomorrah down here.’
‘Sadly lacking the sodomy,’ Kitty joked. ‘Seriously, though, Friday night is Fight Night!’
Lis glanced around sadly. ‘Aren’t there any good shops?’
Kitty and Delilah said ‘No’ in unison and then doubled up laughing.
‘Well, there’s obviously Bagelicious. Classy place! Oh, and there is one quite nice coffee shop on the top floor of the book shop.’ Kitty pointed across the street.
