‘Helena Thornton, what in hell do you think you’re doing?!’
Disey doesn’t get angry often. Sure, she’s got a pretty quick temper, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her truly angry more than two or three times in my life, and I’m glad of it, because it is terrifying. Her face goes white. Her nostrils flare. And you do not want to be in the way of it.
‘Hello, Disey,’ Helena says mildly. ‘Pearl and I were just talking –’
‘Talking?! Talking?!’ If there had been something breakable to hand, you can bet Disey would have thrown it against the wall and smashed it. ‘You were interviewing her!’
‘Now, calm down –’
‘Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!’ Disey explodes. ‘Don’t you dare!’
‘I was just –’
‘Disey, what’s wrong?’ Shad asks, coming into the room. ‘You woke me up.’
‘Shad!’ Helena exclaims. ‘This is all a misunderstanding. I was just asking –’
‘Your girlfriend,’ Disey says from between her teeth, ‘was interviewing Pearl. About the girl that died.’
‘I wasn’t!’ Helena protests. ‘I was just asking a few questions!’
Disey wheels around. ‘And you’re telling me that none of that material was going to turn up in the paper?’
‘Well –’
‘How dare you come into this house and try to pull a stunt like that on my sister? How dare you?!’
‘I didn’t mean –’
‘Don’t you think she’s been through enough? She’s seventeen years old! And she’s supposed to be practically part of your family! She’s not a news source!’
‘Disey –’ Shad says.
‘Don’t you even think about defending her, Shadow Linford!’ Disey snaps.
Helena starts to cry. ‘Honestly, I didn’t mean –’
‘You didn’t mean what? Interrogating her about whether drugs or alcohol were involved and trying to make her paint her friend in a bad light? Asking her to speculate on whether a classmate was involved? You didn’t mean any of that?’
‘I –’
‘Is that what you’re saying, Helena?’ Disey demands.
‘Disey, that’s enough,’ Shad says sharply.
‘Enough? Would it have been enough next week when Pearl’s name was dragged through the paper?’
‘Look, I’m sorry!’ Helena says.
‘One of Pearl’s friends died and you were about to make it even worse!’ Disey says. ‘Do you really think sorry cuts it?’
‘Disey –’ Shad begins.
‘Get out,’ Disey orders Helena.
‘But –’
‘I said get out.’
Helena looks helplessly at Shad. ‘Just go,’ he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘I’ll call you later.’
Helena flees, leaving the back door open in her haste to escape. There is a moment of quiet, where the only sound is the pitter-pat of rain on the roof, before Disey speaks again. ‘I won’t have her back here.’
‘Disey. You’re overreacting.’
‘I don’t think you understand what she was doing, Shad. She was fishing for information from Pearl – information she was going to plaster all over the paper. Pearl’s name, all over the paper. Local Schoolgirl Claims Drugs Involved in Jessup Death. That’s what was going to happen.’
‘I wouldn’t have said that,’ I protest. ‘I’m not stupid.’
‘Helena wouldn’t set out to make Pearl look bad,’ Shad objects.
‘Shad, you are so not getting the point of what she was doing!’
‘I know my girlfriend!’
‘I can’t believe you’re taking her side in this!’
‘I’m not taking anyone’s side. I’m just saying that you’re overreacting.’
‘Don’t you think Pearl’s been through enough?’
But I’m not listening any more. I’m staring through the open back door, into the yard.
The black horse waits for me.
My feet aren’t rooted to the ground this time like they were at the party. Instead, I glide towards it like I’m in a dream. One part of my mind is screaming at me, telling me to stop, but it’s like it’s underwater and I can’t quite hear it. Disey and Shad’s argument has faded into a dim hum.
Everything in the world will be all right, if I can just touch the horse – if I can run my fingers through its glossy black coat, dripping with water. Then I’ll get up on its back and we’ll ride through the wet bush, a seamless blend of girl and horse, riding, riding, riding . . .
‘Pearl?’ I hear Disey say dimly. ‘Pearlie, what are you doing? It’s raining, come back inside!’
The horse tosses its head. It does not dance like it did for Marie. Instead, it just stands. Waiting.
Five steps to go. Four. Three.
‘Pearl?’ Shad calls.
I extend my hand. I’m so close. Everything in the world narrows to this one moment, to my extended hand, to the horse’s extended nose. Two steps to go. One. And –
There’s a sudden sharp stinging pain in the back of my head. I stumble. The horse starts and screams and its teeth are pointed like a shark’s and I want them in my skin and something is running down my face and into my eyes and someone’s just pushed the fast forward button on the world and the ground is rushing up to meet me and –
Darkness.
Cold.
I swim, down, down, down.
Down.
I swim for a long time. I’m diving, down, down, down, from the blue water to the black. I want to touch the floor of the ocean. I want to touch it, even though I know it will mean the end.
The pressure of the water is like a vice. It surrounds me, clamping my body in a shell of iron. Moving is nearly impossible, but I keep swimming, keep kicking in that old, familiar rhythm, keep diving down.
Down.
Down.
It’s hard to tell where you’re going in this place. Sometimes I find myself back in sunnier waters without meaning to.
Once I saw the light playing on the surface of the water and I thought, just for a few seconds, that I could hear voices.
‘. . . very serious condition . . .’
‘. . . a kind of coma . . .’
‘. . . your sister is . . .’
But the blackness was beckoning, and I dived down again, to the bottom of the world.
Sometimes I dream. Finn and Cardy dance through my head in an endless parade of beautiful boys. They feel so close that I could reach out and touch them, grab their hands and be pulled back to the surface. But they always float away and disappear into the darkness.
I am alone.
There is no time in the ocean. The sea crushes the endless tick-tock of life in its watery maw. There is only water. There is only darkness. There is nothing else.
Pearl.
There are no words. Such things have no meaning here. There is nothing except –
Hey, Pearl.
Nothing except blackness and nothingness and –
Linford.
Blackness and nothingness and –
Hey, Linford, wake up.
Nothingness and –
Wake up.
Nothingness –
Wake –
‘Will you just shut the hell up?’ I explode.
Finn almost falls out of his seat. ‘Holy mother of –’ he begins, and launches into a spectacular flurry of swear words.
‘Are you done?’ I say. I try to rise, but I can’t move. The world is beginning to blur in front of my eyes. There is a roaring in my ears and the darkness is rushing up to meet me and –
‘No, no, no, stay with me, Linford.’ There is something panicked in his voice. ‘Come on. Wake up.’
‘Leave me alone,’ I mumble. My head is pounding and I just want to dive, dive, dive –
‘No,’ he says, shaking me. ‘Wake up. Wake up now.’
His hands are like fiery brands on me. I want them to go go go away but they won’t and it hurts, and
I just want to close my eyes and sleep.
‘Come on, Linford, I thought you were tougher than this.’
‘Piss off,’ I groan. The light is too bright. Everything is white. What’s – where am I? What’s going on?
‘Look, I don’t have much time,’ he says to me in a low voice. ‘I need you to listen to me. Are you awake? Do you understand?’
I look at his face, dumbfounded. This is not like the normal dreams I have about him. Why is – am I in hospital? And what is Finn doing here?
‘You’ve been in a coma for three days,’ he tells me.
‘A what? Three days?!’
‘Shhh!’ he says urgently, putting his finger on my lips. ‘Shut up for once in your life and listen to me. I need you to –’
‘Wait,’ I say. The fog in my head is clearing a little, the too-bright light hurting my head but also helping me think. ‘Go back. To the bit when I was in a coma. Give me a minute.’
‘I can give you fifteen seconds,’ he says, looking over his shoulder anxiously at the closed door. ‘Max.’
I watch him as he takes a chair and puts it under the door handle. Why is Finn locking me . . . oooooh, darkness, darkness, darkness.
The velvety blackness of the dark ocean is oddly comforting. I’m so far down now that no matter which way I turn, I cannot see light. There is just me, alone, floating, drifting, sinking down, down, down . . .
‘Wake up!’ He’s shaking me so hard my teeth are chattering. ‘Pearl, come on, wake up!’
‘I’m awake,’ I snap. ‘Stop it. You’re hurting me.’
‘Sorry.’ Finn automatically takes a step back and turns away, running his hand through his black hair.
I force myself into a sitting position. My head feels weird, woolly, like I can’t think right, and strangely light, all floaty. ‘I don’t understand,’ I say. ‘What’s happening?’
‘I –’ There’s a rattle as someone tries to open the door. Finn looks at it, panicked. ‘Look, I don’t have much time. You just have to do what I say, okay? You need to tell them you woke up on your own, all right? Don’t mention my name. Please.’
‘What? Finn –’
There’s a hammering on the door. ‘Pretend to be all dopey like you’ve just woken up,’ he hisses at me. ‘And don’t tell them I was here!’
‘Finn –’
‘Do it!’
There’s something so insistent in his voice that I obey, lying back down and letting my eyelids flutter closed. A second later, I hear the door burst open. ‘Miss Linford?’ someone asks me, shaking my shoulder much more gently than Finn did.
‘Nnnnghnnngh,’ I groan. It’s only half faked. My head is killing me.
I open my eyes. There’s a doctor looming above me. And Finn is nowhere to be seen.
What just happened? Was that real?
‘What’s going on?’ I say.
The doctor pulls a penlight out of his pocket and shines it in my eyes. I flinch. The light is burning my eyes, but the blackness is receding, receding, and I can barely even sense it any more. ‘You suffered a serious head injury,’ he tells me. ‘You’ve been in a coma for several days now. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, I understand,’ I say. I shove myself roughly into a sitting position and the doctor nearly has to dive for my IV stand. ‘I just – I –’
‘This must be quite disorienting for you,’ he says, ‘but the fact you’ve woken up and seem so alert is really very encouraging.’
I’d be more encouraged if anything made sense. ‘What happened?’ I say, as he starts fiddling around with my chart. ‘You said I had a head injury.’
‘You were brought in a few days ago with multiple deep lacerations to the scalp, as well as a severe wound to the back of the head,’ the doctor says. ‘There was embedded rock. Some of it we haven’t been able to remove.’
‘So it’s still there?’
‘We can re-evaluate now you’re awake, but removal might cause brain damage –’
‘Pearlie?’
Disey is standing at the door to my room, mouth open in shock. ‘Oh God, Pearlie, you’re awake!’ she exclaims, and there are tears rolling down her face. ‘Is she all right?’ she asks the doctor urgently.
‘She’s lucid,’ the doctor says. ‘And she doesn’t seem to be suffering any of the potential pitfalls I discussed with you and your brother.’
‘I’m fine,’ I say.
Well, that’s a lying lie if I ever told one. I have ROCK EMBEDDED IN MY FREAKING HEAD THAT MIGHT BRAIN DAMAGE ME IF THEY TRY AND TAKE IT OUT.
Breathe, Pearl. Breathe. Don’t panic. Not in front of Disey.
‘Don’t cry,’ I say. ‘I’m okay, Dise.’
‘Don’t you ever scare me so badly again,’ she says. ‘You promise me. Swear.’
‘I swear,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean –’
‘Pearlie, you silly girl, I know you didn’t.’ Disey looks at the doctor. ‘Can I hug her?’
‘Of course,’ the doctor says, and Disey immediately enfolds me in an enormous bear hug. She smells like sweat and oranges and bad coffee and my eyes fill with tears too. My fingers dig into her shirt and I bury my face in her shoulder. ‘Oh, Pearlie,’ she says sadly. ‘Your beautiful hair.’
‘What?’ I say, and reach up to touch the back of my head.
‘They had to,’ Disey explains awkwardly. ‘You were bleeding so much and they had to stitch you up and they didn’t know what happened . . . Pearlie, honey, don’t cry, it’ll grow back, I promise.’
But now I’m really crying, big, wracking sobs that hurt my chest. My hair. My long blonde hair. Gone.
Shad and Disey don’t want me to have a mirror just yet – they don’t think I’m ready for it – but I manage to con a nurse into getting me one when she comes round to check on me in the early evening. I make her put it face down on the bed and I wait till she’s long gone before I dare to turn it over.
I can only look at myself for a split second before tears start spilling down my cheeks. I’m hideous.
My head is a sea of red angry gashes, puckered with black sutures. The whole back of my head is a giant bandage. The entire left side of my face is purple. I’ve lost weight and my cheekbones are very prominent, making me look haggard. My eyes look huge and even darker than normal. And there is nothing left of my hair except stubble.
One of the few memories I have of my mother is of her reading me Rapunzel as a bedtime story. I don’t remember her face or what colour my bedspread was or anything like that. I just remember the story, and her voice.
That was when I started growing my hair. It was quite short then, a corona of blonde ringlets around my head, but as years went by it got longer and longer. It was thick and golden and I knew that it was beautiful. My fairy-princess hair.
And now I’m bald.
God, don’t be so vain, Pearl. You’re alive. You could be dead. Your hair is a small price to pay.
I stare at myself in the mirror, blinking furiously, half to keep away tears and half in the vain hope that I’ll open my eyes and be looking at Pearl Linford again, not this stubble-headed street-urchin stranger. But this is one dream that I can’t wake up from.
There is a black hair stuck to my collarbone. I pull it off and discard it before leaning back against the pillows and closing my eyes. Maybe if I fall asleep I can wake up from this nightmare. I feel like I’m floating, drifting gently on the surface of the water, until the current catches me and pulls me deeper, deeper, deeper . . .
‘. . . doctors said it was a medical miracle,’ I hear Disey say, as if from a great distance.
Disey. Shad.
Their faces burst into my mind, clear as if they were standing in front of me. I panic, floundering in the water. When did it get so dark? The surface is a long way above me, a tiny glimmer of light. I swim towards it with all my might, but it doesn’t seem to be getting any closer. I can feel my legs getting tired and the water is so heavy and the blackness is so inviting . . .
Then I open my eyes.
And nothing has changed.
I’m in my hospital bed. I’ve obviously been flailing my arms and legs about, because I’m sprawled in an awkward, painful position. The IV needle has torn the skin on my left arm, and I’m bleeding. I sit up and raise my arm to examine the damage, when I see the black hair, stuck to the skin.
Don’t tell them I was here! Finn whispers in my mind.
My thoughts race.
The door to my room opens. Hurriedly, I coil the black hair around my pinky like a ring. ‘Pearlie, Phil is here to see – you’re bleeding!’ Disey exclaims.
‘I – oops,’ I say lamely.
‘Here, you talk to Phil while I go and find someone to fix you up.’
Phil comes in. I feel instantly cheered up. It’s very difficult to be frightened of nightmares in Phil’s presence. ‘I brought you flowers,’ she says, brandishing a bundle of gerberas. ‘Where do you want me to put them?’
‘Oh, wherever,’ I say. ‘It’s really good to see you, Phil.’
She gives me a hug. ‘You had me really worried there,’ she says.
‘Sorry.’
‘Everyone at school signed a card for you. Ms Rao’s going to bring it in tomorrow.’
‘That’s really sweet.’
‘You should have seen the common room yesterday. They called the whole year group together before class in Ms Rao’s room, and I was so scared, Pearl. But then they told us that your brother had called and that you were awake and lucid and it looked like you were going to be fine, and everyone started cheering. I just about broke Julian’s neck I hugged him so hard.’
‘I’m sorry I scared you,’ I say.
‘So . . . what happened?’ Phil asks. ‘No one would tell us. Even Disey was super cagey when I asked.’
‘I –’
Rain. Darkness. The black horse, waiting for me. The stinging pain. The sharp teeth. Blood running into my eyes. Then nothing.
‘I went outside in the rain, and I guess there was like a freak gust of wind or something, because next thing I know I’m here with my head sliced open and full of rocks.’
Valentine Page 8
