She wasn’t as comfortable with heights as Tasha and Hayley were, but she’d have no problem getting to the ladder and climbing down from here to the garden. The branches were thick and even, solid, and Becca could see where Tasha had broken smaller ones off lower down to make easy footholds. The snow outside was finally melting and the tree was clear of it, just as it would have been that night.
‘You still don’t remember anything?’ Becca asked, before quickly adding, ‘Sorry, you must be so tired of that question. I figure you don’t.’
Tasha shook her head. ‘Nothing. Nothing real. Sometimes I dream stuff, but it’s more about being afraid and in the water than anything else. Thinking something’s in there with me, something I can’t quite see.’
‘Maybe that’s your memory trying to come back.’ Becca blew out a long stream of smoke. ‘Something just out of reach?’
‘You sound like the shrink.’ Tasha glanced back into the bedroom. ‘She makes me write a diary. Stuff I’m doing and thinking. I wasn’t going to do it, but . . . you know. Maybe it helps.’ She shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. It was strange seeing Tasha so unconfident and Becca’s heart thawed a little. She glanced at the notebook, and the pen sitting on top of it, by her friend’s bed. It must be so strange, not knowing how it happened.
‘I hope to shit you didn’t put the drugs stuff in there,’ she said with a grin.
‘No! I thought I’d make some stuff up, just in case she ever asks to read it. In case you were wondering, I’m currently having a three-way with Mr Jones and Mr Garrick from English.’
‘Once again: gross.’ Becca said.
‘Well, we can’t all be loved-up like you.’
‘How come you don’t have a boyfriend? Don’t you want one?’ The afternoon sun was setting, painting the horizon a burning envious orange under the cold, darkening blue. Becca stared at it, suddenly worried that Tasha was going to declare she’d made a terrible mistake and had been in love with Aiden all along and was hoping she could just take him now and they could all still be friends.
‘I don’t think I do,’ Tasha said, quietly. ‘I just don’t get what all the fuss is about. I can’t tell Hayles or Jen that, of course. They wouldn’t get it. Jenny fucks like a rabbit – practically everything you’ve heard about her is true and then some – and Hayley would tit-fuck Mark Pritchard and his dad if it would get him to go out with her. But I don’t really see what the point of a boyfriend is.’
The words were harsh and crude, rougher coming from Tasha. She wasn’t like that. Although, Becca had to admit, she didn’t really know what she was like any more.
‘You guys okay?’ She studied Tasha. One of the slim girl’s knees was under her chin, the other still dangling over the ledge. She was hunched up. Thoughtful. Her face tight and eyes dark. Still beautiful, though.
‘I think so.’
‘It’s just, last night you were going to say something about them and then you stopped.’ She stubbed out her cigarette butt on the underside of the ledge and then pulled her leg inside to go and flush it down the toilet. She envied Tasha in so many ways. A lock on the door and her own en-suite bathroom. No shouting through the door for privacy. No hurrying along the landing in just a towel. She wondered if she’d ever stop envying Natasha Howland or if this was her life’s fate.
‘Things have been a bit weird,’ Tasha said eventually. Becca sat on the bed. ‘I don’t know, it was just different. Before my accident.’
‘Different how?’
‘It’s hard to say. As if they don’t like me so much any more.’
Becca couldn’t picture it. Natasha was the Barbies. Jenny and Hayley were just satellites.
‘Maybe three is a crowd,’ Tasha finished.
Becca bit her tongue to stop a barbed remark about being left on the sidelines, kicked out like some rejected runt of a litter, any one of a million metaphors that still didn’t quite cut it, to express how much it had hurt. Tasha had said sorry. And it was a long time ago. They’d all changed. Grown up, for better or for worse.
‘But they seem fine now. More than fine, actually. Constantly texting and checking on me. Wanting to come over. I had to tell them I’ve got a hospital thing this afternoon just to shut them up for a while.’
‘At least they care.’
‘Something like that, I guess. Hey,’ Tasha said suddenly, ‘you want a game of chess?’
‘What, now?’ Becca asked.
‘Why not? Let’s start now and text our next moves as and when. You can set it up at home on the board I got you, so it matches mine.’
‘Sure. Okay, then.’ Becca’s face brightened with undisguised joy. The clock was rolling backwards to happier times. ‘You’ll win, though.’
‘Maybe.’ Tasha’s eyes shone, already competitive. ‘It can be our secret, anyway.’
Becca nodded. Of course it would be a secret. Natasha Howland playing chess with Rebecca Crisp again would be gossip of the wrong kind. She wondered when, if ever, these things would stop being important.
They were interrupted half an hour later by Natasha’s dad knocking on the door.
‘Quick! Pack your tits away,’ Tasha said, groping her own chest and sending Becca into giggles. ‘Dad alert.’ The start of the game had been slow, interspersed with chat about school and declarations of how bad they were both going to be at chess after such a long time away from it – even though Becca suspected that Tasha, too, had played occasionally since the Chess Club days.
‘I brought you these,’ Gary said. He stood in the doorway holding two cans of Coke which Tasha took. He peered into the room, slightly surprised. His hair was gelled and tousled, straight from the tennis club changing room, Becca imagined. A waft of citrus aftershave hit air still laden with the remnants of cigarette smoke. If Gary noticed it, he didn’t say. He stared at Becca for a moment, though, and then gave a hurried smile. ‘Sorry, I heard voices and thought it was Hayley.’
‘No, just me.’
‘Good to see you. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. Remember you need an early night, T-Bird. Still the doctor’s orders.’
‘Yes, Dad.’ Tasha was already shutting him out.
‘He still calls you T-Bird?’ Becca said, laughing.
‘It was funny when I was nine,’ Tasha said. ‘I’ve had to shout at him to stop him using it in public.’ She frowned a little, irritated, and Becca was surprised. Maybe cute family nicknames didn’t sit so well when you were a Barbie. She checked her watch. It was still early, but she was tired from lack of sleep and the drugs of the night before, and if she didn’t get her shit together she’d be screwed for tomorrow and her mum wanted them all to go out for Sunday lunch. She needed her eight hours. Where possible, she gave herself ten.
‘I’m going to head home,’ she said. ‘I’ll text you my next move when my brain is working better. I’m still fucked from last night.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Tasha raised an eyebrow, wry.
‘Not like that. Well, maybe a bit like that.’ She grinned. Talking about sex, or at least around sex, with Tasha made her feel more sophisticated. Things had changed since they fell out. Becca might not be a Barbie but she had a boyfriend who’d left school already and they had sex. So what if it was someone Tasha once turned down?
‘Anyway,’ she said as they headed downstairs, ‘thanks for asking me round.’
‘It was great to see you.’ Tasha squeezed her arm. ‘I mean it. And I’m . . . you know . . .’ She flushed and hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground. ‘Sorry again. For everything.’
‘Forget about it,’ Becca said. ‘I mean it.’ In that moment, she did. All the pain and tears and rejection didn’t matter. At least temporarily.
Something sizzled in the kitchen and Becca’s eyes stung with fried onions. Whatever Alison was cooking as the two girls headed to the door for their goodbyes, it smelled good. Even afte
r her huge lunch, Becca’s stomach still rumbled.
‘Thanks for having me, Mrs Howland.’
‘Any time, Becca.’
‘Oh, one more thing,’ Tasha said, softly, as they stood on the doorstep, the damp air making them both shiver. ‘Don’t say anything about this, will you? You know, at school.’
‘Sure.’ Becca felt a stab of hurt and it must have showed.
‘It’s not about you – I only want to cover my back with Hayley and Jen. I can’t be arsed with all the drama. I just didn’t want to see them today – they won’t get that.’
Becca smiled. ‘It’s fine. I won’t say anything.’ It suited her, too. This way, Hannah wouldn’t find out, either. Not that Becca needed to keep secrets from Hannah, but she definitely wouldn’t approve of this. Not after what she’d said in the restaurant toilets. And more than that, she’d be really hurt that Becca lied. For a second, she had a pang of guilt. But from here on Tasha’s doorstep, Hannah felt a long way away.
‘See you Monday,’ Tasha said.
‘Yay, English mock results.’
‘Oh, crap. But also maybe casting for the play.’
‘True. Good luck.’ It didn’t really matter to Becca who got what part. She was in charge backstage. That was her world.
Tasha pulled her in to hug goodbye, Becca feeling awkward in the tight embrace. Then the door closed and she started her walk home. All she wanted was to curl up in bed and go to sleep. But she’d set the chessboard up first. She lit a cigarette. They’d opened into the Ruy Lopez game – no real surprise there. It gave nothing away. Maybe she’d bring her second knight out. Her brain was too tired to think the game through right now. Playing against Natasha was not like playing against her dad. He was impulsive and never thought more than one move ahead. That wasn’t really chess, as far as Becca could see. She inhaled hard. God, she was a nerd. No wonder Tasha wanted to keep it all secret. Even so, she smiled. She couldn’t help it. It was nice to have her friend back.
Nineteen
18.03
Jenny
Pick up!
18.04
Hayley
Cant. In car with dad. Getting takeaway.
18.05
Jenny
She lied. She didnt go to hospital. Why?
18.07
Hayley
What? U sure?
How do u know?
18.09
Jenny
Went past her house on my bike. Lights were on so I hung around a bit across the road. Saw Becca Crisp coming out. They even hugged goodbye. ???
18.10
Hayley
What??
18.12
Jenny
Why would she ignore us like that? Im scared. U think she remembers?
18.14
Jenny
U there?
18.15
Hayley
I’m thinking.
18.16
Jenny
If she remembers why hasnt she said anything? Should we talk to him? Tell him? I think we should.
18.18
Hayley
No! He’ll freak. Maybe she doesnt remember but
kinda knows we fought.
Just keep being normal.
18.20
Jenny
Im freaking out.
18.22
Hayley
Maybe she just wanted to hang out with Becca. Didnt want to say. Knows it would piss me off. Maybe wants to know about auditions? Thinks Bex will know parts?
18.23
Jenny
If she remembers maybe she told Becca? I feel sick.
18.24
Hayley
She wouldnt. Not her style. I’ll call when home.
Delete delete delete!
18.25
Jenny
I know!!
18.26
Jenny
;-)
Twenty
Taken from DI Caitlin Bennett’s files:
Extract from Natasha Howland’s notebook
After Becca went, while I waited for Mum to call me down for tea, I couldn’t help thinking about sex. Even Becca was having sex. It was strange to contemplate.
When Mark Pritchard was shoving his tongue into my mouth I could feel his dick pressing through his jeans. He ground it against me like I was supposed to be impressed. Maybe I am supposed to be impressed.
I’ve seen one before. Hard and naked. A dick, prick, cock, penis, whatever you want to call it. All the words make me cringe a bit. It was last year with Alfie Jonas at a party before the Year Thirteens left. I laughed first. I couldn’t help it. It looked so odd, jutting out from the tangle of hair at his crotch, this strange, pale column of skin and veins. A drop of fluid erupted from the hole at the top, within the circle fold, sitting waiting for me to touch it. He looked so hurt when I giggled and I pretended it was because his trousers and pants were halfway down his thighs, but it was actually at how pathetic it was. How this thing caused so much fuss. I had liked Alfie a bit before this. His kisses were soft. They weren’t invasive.
It was weird. He was staring at me like an eager puppy and I didn’t know what to do. I touched it. The skin was softer than I expected, the hardness all within. He wrapped his hand around mine and made me grip it as he moved my palm like a puppet’s, up and down, the looser skin moving with us.
Then it was over pretty quickly, thankfully – just a groan and a damp sticky patch on my hand. I never saw him again. Not like that, anyway.
Becca does that – and more – with Aiden. I don’t know why she would. Lanky Aiden with his greebo hair over most of his face. Aiden who can never look me in the eye properly. Aiden who tripped over while asking me out and just sat on the ground staring up at me while I laughed. He looked so broken and that made me laugh even more, even though it was terrible and hurtful. I couldn’t help it. And then Hayley and Jenny were laughing, too, and everyone was looking at him like he was some spastic special.
And now Becca’s in love with him. He’s not quite such a geeky loser as he was in school, but he’s not exactly a catch now, either. I think he’d still dump her to fuck me if I’d let him. I can’t imagine them fucking. She probably even puts his thing in her mouth.
Sex is ugly in my head. It shouldn’t be, I know. But it is. Maybe I’ll never do it. I think sometimes power comes from not doing it. I can feel it from the boys who look at me. They want it so badly. But really, how good can it be? No different with me than with any other girl. But they want me because they can’t have me. Look at Jenny. She has no power. She gives it away. She says she loves it but I’m not so sure she always does. She’s damaged by it, exactly like her mum. I can feel that, too. I think I feel it more since my accident, which is weird. She believes it’s all she has and she just wants to be loved. How terrible is that? She does that for ‘love’. I don’t think I want to be loved that much.
And yet they’re all so proud of it. Becca and Jenny and even Hayley, who I don’t think has fucked anyone yet, but she’s definitely given a hand-job. Proud of the sticky, grunting mess. Like it’s a secret. Maybe that’s what sex gives people. Secrets.
But I already have my secrets. I don’t need sex for that.
Part Two
Twenty-One
Extract from The Times, Monday 18th January
A body found last night in the River Ribble, between Maypoole and Brackston in Lancashire, has been identified as that of the missing 19-year-old Nicola Munroe, who disappeared from her home in Maypoole more than two months ago.
Extract from the Maypoole Gazette, Monday 18th January
The parents of Nicola Munroe have formally identified their daughter’s body after it was found in the Ribble on Sunday night. Sources state that iden
tification was made by Miss Munroe’s clothing and confirmed by dental records after two months in the water and severe decomposition left the young woman unrecognisable. Nicola’s father, Gerard Munroe, released a statement asking that his family be allowed to grieve in private. The Munroes may intend to make a complaint about the police’s failure to dredge the river during the initial search for their daughter. Nicola Munroe was taking a gap year before starting a Music Technology degree at Leeds University. She had recently returned from a trip to Thailand teaching English as a foreign language and was working part-time in the Nag and Pineapple in Chester Street.
Extract from the Brackston Herald, Tuesday 19th January
The cause of Nicola Munroe’s death, whose body was found in the river at Brackston on Sunday night, remains a mystery as police refuse to release any details. It is still unclear if Miss Munroe’s body was moved by currents to the location where it was found, or whether it had lain there for the past two months. The proximity of her body to the location where local teenager Natasha Howland was saved has raised questions from the local community about a link between these two cases. Miss Howland, who was rescued by local musician Jamie McMahon while walking his dog, was clinically dead for thirteen minutes before paramedics revived her, and has returned to studying for her A Levels at Brackston Community College. She has no memory of the day leading up to the incident. Her family have declined to comment.
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