Hollow Pike

by James Dawson

  ‘Kitty!’ she yelled, ignoring sideways glances from the students all around her. ‘Kitty!’

  Her screams were lost in the hungry thunder and she started to run as fast as she could across the concrete. Pushing through a group of Year Seven pupils struggling to come in from the rain, Lis just spotted Kitty charging up the stairs to the top corridor.

  ‘Kitty!’ she yelled, desperate not to lose her, but judging from the dark, determined look on Kitty’s face, her friend was also on a mission. Had she heard the news too? Or had she been the first to know? Either way, Kitty failed to stop.

  ‘Move!’ Lis demanded of the little girls in her way. She squeezed past them and reached the stairs. Kitty was nowhere to be seen.

  Feedback shrieked through the halls as the ancient PA system hissed into life. Lis’s hands flew to cover her ears.

  ‘Attention, all pupils. This is Mr Raynor.’ It was the deputy head. ‘There will be a whole school assembly in the new gymnasium in ten minutes. On the first bell, Years Seven, Eight and Nine will make their way to the gym. On the second bell, Years Ten, Eleven and Sixth Form will follow.’

  He started to repeat the simple instructions, but Lis was already on her way to the gym. Her friends had to be there.

  11.17 a.m. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to have followed the bell system. The gymnasium was chaos. Teachers desperately attempted to shepherd their classes into some sort of order, with younger pupils at the front and the Sixth Form at the very back of the hall.

  This was the first time Lis had been in the gymnasium. It was brand new and still had that pristine polish smell, although, as it filled with soaked students, the scent of rain and sweat was taking over.

  Amidst the madness, Lis could clearly see Jack and Delilah already sitting cross-legged on the floor at the other side of the hall. She waved frantically at them, but through the hordes of milling pupils, they failed to see her. Scanning the hall, Lis couldn’t see Kitty anywhere. The six-foot, mixed race girl with a purple Mohican stood out at the best of times. She plainly wasn’t in the hall.

  ‘Lis,’ called Mr Gray, who looked more stressed than she’d ever seen him, ‘can you sit down next to Millie, please?’

  She opened her mouth to protest, she had to get to Delilah and Jack.

  ‘Lis. Just sit down. Now!’

  It was no use. Fighting the urge to scream in frustration, Lis flopped down next to Millie Carpenter.

  Laura Rigg was dead. She had thought of that girl almost every hour since she’d met her in G2 on her first day. Now she would never see her again. Laura Rigg. Lis screwed her eyes shut and pressed her hands to her face. The darkness behind her eyelids flickered, interspersed with the gruesome images she herself had conjured during the murderous meeting in Kitty’s attic. Kitty, rock in hand, standing over Laura’s body, laughing manically. Jack holding her head under the black waters of the creek. Delilah giggling as Laura choked on a poisoned alcopop.

  ‘That’s enough!’ boomed Ms Dandehunt, who was standing on a gymnastics table at the front of the hall, directly below a basketball hoop. The police officers stood just to one side of her, along with Mr Raynor. She raised a microphone to her lips. ‘Quiet. You know I don’t enjoy shouting, Fulton High.’

  The hall quickly fell silent. By now, everyone was desperate to hear the news.

  ‘I am afraid I have gathered you here to deliver some devastating news. A teacher should never have to say this; I don’t even know where to start. It is with great sorrow that I must tell you that last night a Year Eleven pupil died in the most tragic circumstances.’

  A gasp ran around the auditorium. Some turned to friends, a question on their lips. The texts hadn’t reached everyone, then.

  ‘To prevent gossip and further distress, I will tell you now that that pupil was Laura Rigg.’

  The hall roared to life. Lis sat still and silent as everyone around her exploded with every kind of shock and emotion. Lis put her hands over her ears. Between the noise in her head and the noise in the room, she couldn’t bear it.

  ‘Quiet, everybody, please! This is a very serious matter.’ Ms Dandehunt’s face was iron, entirely different to the cuddly creature Lis had experienced in assemblies so far. ‘I will not have speculation or rumour spreading. I understand many of you are distressed at the loss of your fellow pupil. Laura was a dear friend to many of you.’

  Lis looked over to Delilah and Jack. They were statues, eyes fixed on Ms Dandehunt, neither moving nor speaking.

  ‘We have never had such a tragedy at Fulton High School before. I’m afraid I have no reassuring speech, no soothing words. All of us will need support at this dark time.’ Her voice softened. ‘We have experienced a great loss today. Some of us may have lost people before, others maybe not. But now, more than ever, we need each other, for strength, comfort and love. This is a very, very sad day. Spare a thought for Laura’s friends and think about her family. Out of respect for them, this will be a day of quiet reflection and school will be closed.’

  No one in the audience, not even the most obnoxious Year Nine boys made a sound at this news. Even the wildest teenagers knew where to draw the line.

  ‘Spend the day with your families and friends. Reflect on how lucky you are. Or think about Laura and how special she was. Fulton High School won’t be the same without her.’

  School would be a better place without her. That was what Lis had said in Kitty’s attic, and now her words haunted her.

  ‘But before you go back to your form rooms, some very important people from the North Yorkshire Police need a few minutes of your time.’

  Ms Dandehunt passed the microphone to the female officer who climbed onto the gym table next to her.

  ‘Hello, Fulton High School, my name is PC Jacqui Briggs. I’m your school liaison officer. Most of you have met me before at some point in lessons.’

  Lis again looked over at Delilah and Jack, who were this time subtly trying to get her attention.

  Jack seemed to mouth ‘O.M.G.’

  Delilah parted her hands and mouthed, ‘Where’s Kitty?’

  Lis shrugged.

  ‘I am so very sorry, guys,’ PC Briggs continued. ‘This must be a huge shock. It’s the worst possible thing when someone dies, but it is especially dreadful when it’s someone so young. I know a lot of you knew Laura and will want to talk to your parents and friends, but there are a couple of messages from us before you can go.’

  Lis noted that Delilah now seemed to be highly agitated and Jack was trying to calm her. She longed to be with them and know what they were saying. Did they look guilty? She couldn’t be sure.

  ‘We need you to be extra sensitive and careful right now, guys. There will be a police investigation, and we will need your help with that. We’ll be talking to some of you in the next few days as we gather information. I’m sure you’ll do everything you can to be as cooperative as possible. You can also help us by staying well away from Pike Copse. Thank you, Fulton, that’s everything for now.’

  The room once again erupted into chaos as pupils clambered over each other to reach their friends. Teachers tried their best to establish calm, but with little effect. Lis witnessed some Year Eleven girls collapse into each other’s arms. A number of classmates looked around dazedly, unsure of what to say or do. Lis just stood there, numb to it all. Suddenly it felt as if there were too many colours in the room.

  She saw Delilah rush from the gymnasium, closely followed by Jack. Her head told her to chase after them, but her feet would not move. And that’s when she realised that tears were flowing freely down her face.

  Q & A

  Lis went home and slept for the rest of the day. Darkness came. She heard her sister and Max talking quietly outside her room, but she remained in hibernation under her duvet. Later still, Sarah tapped on the door and entered bearing a cup of tea and a cheese toastie, but Lis still hid under the duvet. Under the duvet Laura’s murder wasn’t real.

  She slept all night and when the va
nilla light of dawn flowed through her curtains, she rolled to the wall and kept her eyes shut.

  She dozed, dreaming that Laura was alive and well and her death had been only a nightmare. Sweet relief. Each time she woke, Lis experienced the gut-wrenching prospect that one of her closest friends might be a cold-blooded murderer. It was agony.

  Her mind ran over and over the conversation she and Laura had had at the edge of the copse. She remembered Laura’s haunted eyes, so full of secrets. What had she known? What was she caught up in? Whatever it was had led to her death. Worse still, did Lis’s own friends have the answers? So many questions; it felt as if they were tearing her brain to shreds.

  Lis herself had wished Laura dead. Be careful what you wish for.

  It was nearly noon when Lis woke up hungry. Heavy rain battered the patio doors and the growl of thunder echoed sporadically.

  Was there any possible way she could opt out of today? Lis groaned and kicked back the duvet. No, today she had to find her friends. Difficult questions badly needed asking.

  Slipping on a plush white dressing gown, she crossed the hallway. At the top of the stairs she heard voices floating up from the kitchen. Sarah was chatting to Logan and he babbled back to her. It was so normal, so real, so comforting.

  Shocked to see Lis enter the kitchen, Sarah looked up from the newspaper she was reading. ‘Hello, stranger!’ She smiled warmly. ‘How are you?’

  Logan was playing happily on the floor with a set of plastic cups. His little hands and tufts of soft, fair hair somehow cracked Lis’s shell. Crossing the kitchen, she swept her nephew into her arms and held him close.

  ‘Lis?’ Sarah said gently.

  ‘I’m fine. Really. I just needed to sleep.’

  ‘I’m the same when I’m down. Everything always seems better in the morning, though.’

  Lis felt tears pricking her eyes and she kissed Logan’s head, breathing in the scent of talc and baby lotion.

  ‘Do you want something to eat?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Yes, please,’ Lis said. ‘I’m starving! Do we have any fruit? I have a craving for fruit, ice-cream and pancakes.’

  ‘Done, done and done.’ Sarah rose from her chair. ‘You stick the kettle on.’

  Lis replaced Logan, who was beginning to wriggle, and quickly filled the kettle. Leaning against the counter, her gaze fell on Sarah’s newspaper. It took her a second to realise the face on the front cover was that of her former best friend/worst enemy.

  Sarah turned back from the fridge-freezer, her arms full of eggs and ice cream. She paused, realising why Lis had frozen.

  ‘Oh, God! Lis, I’m sorry! Don’t look at that!’

  Lis shook her head. ‘No, it’s OK. This all really happened. I’ll have to get used to the news, won’t I?’ She slipped into a chair at the big family table and took a deep breath before starting to read.

  North Yorkshire Police are continuing their largest ever manhunt today in the search for the killer of Hollow Pike schoolgirl Laura Rigg, 15, whose body was found in Pike Copse, near Fulton, yesterday morning. A spokesperson refused to comment on growing speculation that this was a ritual-style killing. Police are questioning a number of witnesses, including Laura’s parents and school friends, although they stressed that no arrests have been made at this early stage.

  ‘It’s sad how people always think it’s the parents,’ Lis commented, reading the subtext. ‘How sick is that?’

  Sarah sat beside her and rubbed her hand. ‘I know, but that’s the world we live in. You should have heard the conversations in the post office yesterday. So much gossip.’

  Lis remembered the public spat Laura and her dad had shared in town. Surely it wasn’t significant, though? Surely it had just been a teenage diva moment.

  ‘What do you think they mean by “ritual-style killing”?’ Lis murmured.

  ‘I’ve no idea, hon. I dread to think.’

  The story continued on page three. No further information was given on how Laura had died and, although Lis didn’t want the gory details, the words ‘ritual-style killing’ had tapped into her own fears. Rituals might involve hooded capes and ceremonial daggers – the things she and her friends had had that night, inspired by what Lis had seen in Mrs Gillespie’s book.

  What was more depressing were the pupils who paid their respects to Laura, no doubt for a fee, in the cheesy tabloid. There was a picture of Laura with Poppy Hewitt-Smith, the ponytail victim. Lis knew that Poppy and Laura had despised each other, and yet there they were, smiling in ink. Like sisters read the quote under the picture. The photo looked about two years old. Yuck, Poppy was a vampire, feeding on Laura’s death. Lis slammed the paper shut and threw it across the room where it tumbled into the recycling box.

  ‘You OK?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Yeah. I suppose it’ll get easier.’

  Sarah poured the tea. ‘Well, there is one thing, Lis . . .’

  ‘Go on.’

  Placing the tea next to her, Sarah started mixing the pancake batter. ‘Well, while you were sleeping, we had a phone call from the police.’

  ‘What?’ Lis exploded, nearly dropping her tea.

  ‘Don’t fret!’ Sarah said quickly. ‘They’re talking to most of your class – just gathering information about the last few days. They said it was absolutely nothing to worry about.’

  Oh, if only that were the case, Lis thought.

  Two hours later, Lis looked across the car park. Sheets of rain bounced off the tarmac, yet she could still make out the shape of the police station in the distance.

  ‘Right. I’m ready.’ She sighed.

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Max in his broad Yorkshire accent. As Sarah was with Logan, Max had left his site to accompany Lis. ‘You know we don’t have to go today. They said “in your own time”.’

  Lis turned and tried for a smile. ‘What’s the point in waiting? Might as well get it over and done with.’

  With Max holding a mighty golf umbrella over both of them, they sprinted through the downpour. Lis had never seen rain like it. Even in the short dash, they were both drenched by the time they fell through the automatic doors.

  Fulton Police Station was a local affair, but it had that strange council vibe: tatty posters curling at the edges and leaflets littering torn vinyl chairs. Lis sat, pulling at some exposed seat padding, while Max spoke to the officer on the desk. This place was almost as chaotic as the gymnasium had been. It was obvious the regional station didn’t have the capacity to handle something like this.

  ‘Lis, we’ve got to wait through here.’ Max beckoned her through a security door and she found herself in an almost identical waiting room. She wondered if the whole station was like an Escher print where she’d keep going through doors only to discover the same room behind each one.

  ‘I need the loo,’ Lis said, feeling increasingly nervous.

  ‘OK, pet, I’ll wait here.’

  Lis left the waiting room and searched the long corridor, looking for the ladies’. She turned a corner and saw the lavatories next to a tall, brown coffee machine. Suddenly, she heard a familiar voice.

  ‘Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?’ It was Kitty’s father. He had close-shaven grey hair with a neat beard to match, and the darkest mahogany skin. He was maybe even taller than Max, who took some beating in the height stakes. He towered over a terrified Kitty, who was pressed against the vending machine. Her friend had been crying, and was without her trademark make-up. She looked very young. Lis quickly ducked back around the corner, but remained within earshot.

  ‘I’m sorry. I should have said something sooner,’ Kitty said. The pair were speaking in low voices.

  ‘Do you think?’ her father raged. ‘Do you bloody think?’

  ‘What else can I say? I’m sorry!’ There was none of the usual coolness in Kitty’s voice.

  ‘Katherine, do you think you get some sort of special treatment for being my daughter?’

  ‘Well, clearly not!’ Kitty sobbed b
itterly.

  ‘Don’t get bloody clever, young lady!’ he snarled. ‘Now, are you sure there’s nothing else you want to add before you go? Because if I find out you’ve “forgotten” something, I will have you arrested and that is a promise!’

  Lis winced at the grilling. It was painful to listen to so Lis could only imagine what it would feel like to be on the receiving end. Jack was right: Kitty’s dad was the scariest man ever.

  ‘That’s everything,’ Kitty said. ‘We had a fight at Danny’s party. It wasn’t even a proper fight. She was taking the mick out of Delilah, so I slapped her and we both fell down the stairs. Dad, I promise, that’s everything. It had nothing to do with what’s happened!’

  Her father paused for a moment. ‘Right, get out of my sight.’

  Lis heard their footsteps approach. She promptly resumed her walk, trying to look as casual as possible. Kitty and her dad almost crashed straight into her.

  ‘Lis!’ Kitty said, astonished. ‘I tried calling you a hundred times. Your phone was off. I—’

  ‘That’s enough,’ snapped her father. ‘Go home, Katherine. I’ll speak to you later.’

  Kitty looked from Lis to her dad, choosing not to argue. ‘Call me later, OK?’ she said to Lis and left quickly.

  Kitty’s dad turned to Lis. ‘Right. It’s Elisabeth London, isn’t it? I’m Inspector Keith Monroe. I’ve got you down as my next appointment.’

  Lis and Max were led into a room marked ‘Interview 1’. A female officer sat quietly at a desk in the sticky little room. The only sound was the streaming rain beating against the single window pane.

  ‘This is PC Alison Price, my colleague. She’ll be taking some notes while we chat,’ explained Inspector Monroe, gesturing to them both to sit. ‘Try to relax, Elisabeth, you’re not in any trouble.’ He was full of Yorkshire charm now, but Lis couldn’t forget the way he’d treated Kitty.