Perfect Liars

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Perfect Liars Page 22

by Rebecca Reid


  ‘Is everyone here?’ asked Georgia. Her question was met by a general murmur of assent.

  ‘There’s been an accident,’ she said. Nancy’s eyes snapped to the side. Who had decided that Georgia was going to make the announcement? She was doing the ‘strong but sad’ face that she always used when she was in trouble. It was an expression she’d copied from celebrities in magazines who were on trial for a DUI.

  ‘Miss Brandon fell,’ said Nancy quickly.

  Chatter broke out amongst the other girls. ‘We need to stay calm,’ said Georgia, raising her voice. ‘And wait here for help.’

  ‘What happened?’ asked Katie.

  ‘We were standing near the edge, working out our best route down, and Miss Brandon came towards us. Heidi had told her that we were trying to break away from the group,’ said Georgia. Nancy watched as dozens of eyes looked for Heidi, finding her sitting down on a fallen tree.

  ‘It’s not her fault,’ said Lila. ‘It wasn’t anyone’s fault.’ That was true, wasn’t it?

  ‘She was angry and out of control. She fell,’ Georgia finished the story.

  ‘Is she still alive?’ asked Carmen.

  No one answered.

  ‘Shouldn’t we call an ambulance?’ said Laura.

  The chatter started again, buzzing. ‘We tried,’ said Lila. ‘When we were up there. Our phones aren’t working. Everyone should check their phone. See if you have signal.’

  Lila watched as the girls fumbled in their jackets, scrambled back to their tents or searched their rucksacks. One by one they pinged open the screens of their phones.

  ‘Anyone got a signal?’ asked Nancy.

  No one answered.

  ‘It’s like Miss Brandon told us,’ Nancy said. ‘There isn’t any signal around here.’

  ‘She also put the payphone on our map,’ said Heidi. Lila felt the panic rise. She didn’t like the idea of leaving Miss Brandon where she was. But she liked the idea of an ambulance coming, before she’d even had a chance to speak to Georgia and Nancy, even less.

  ‘It’s too dark to find it,’ said Nancy. ‘I wish we could, but we’ll get lost, and we’ll end up in even more danger.’

  ‘We could go and find one of the other camps?’ said a voice from the back of the group. It was Katie.

  Georgia nodded, still wearing the strong-but-sad expression. ‘I thought about that. But we don’t know where they are. It’s too dangerous to go for help now,’ she went on in a small voice. ‘It’s terrible, what’s happened. Everyone’s in shock. But we can’t put ourselves in danger. It’s not what Miss Brandon would want,’ she added.

  Lila was surprised. She’d thought the other girls would fight harder for Miss Brandon, try to save her. Miss Brandon had done everything right, from her blow dry to her heels, and these girls had acted like they loved her. She’d even got them to vote against the social. But when it came down to it, when it was dark and raining and there was even a hint of danger, not one of them was willing to put themselves at risk to look for her.

  ‘What are we going to do now?’ said Carmen, stepping forward. Nancy looked up. The girls had somehow ended up in a circle. It was getting darker, harder to see everyone clearly.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Nancy.

  ‘What do we do next?’ asked Mengwen.

  ‘We should go and look,’ said Heidi, her voice high and strange. ‘For her.’

  ‘Be my guest,’ said Nancy. Lila shot her a sharp look. It was the kind of stupid thing Heidi might decide to go and do, and another missing girl was going to make things worse, not better.

  ‘Heidi, it’s too dangerous,’ said Georgia. ‘It’s dark, and slippery, and we have no idea where she might be. We’ll look in the morning.’

  Thank God for Georgia. Heidi’s shoulders slumped, all the fight had gone out of her.

  ‘Promise?’ asked Heidi.

  ‘Yes,’ said Lila. ‘I’ll help you look.’

  ‘Are we going to get into trouble?’ asked Katie.

  Nancy sighed. ‘No, we’re not. It’s going to be fine.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Sophie. ‘Really sure?’

  Nancy took a breath. Lila could tell that she was considering her next move carefully.

  ‘It was an accident. We’ve done everything we could.’

  There was a murmur of approval. They wanted to believe it. All of them. Lila didn’t blame them. She wished she could join them in their blissful ignorance.

  ‘Everyone, give me your phone,’ Nancy said across the group.

  ‘What?’ asked Sophie. ‘Why?’

  ‘We need to put them all together in one place,’ she said, a hint of a plea in her voice.

  ‘Why?’ asked Katie.

  ‘It’s a technology thing,’ Georgia jumped in. Lila caught their plan almost instantly.

  ‘If you put them all together, they’re more likely to get a signal. Some kind of mass antennae thing,’ she joined in.

  ‘I think I’ve heard of that,’ said Sophie, nodding. They were buying it. Thank fuck.

  Lila stood up and held out her hands. Georgia handed over her phone. Nancy followed. Nancy looked into the dark, waiting to see if it was going to work. No one moved. Fuck. If they all kept their phones there was no way they’d get away with this, no telling how much shit would come down on them. Little pictures of iron bars and sobbing parents had been flickering behind Lila’s eyes for the last two hours.

  Then Carmen proffered her phone, a blue Pebble one. It had been the phone du jour last year, Nancy had had one herself until one of her parents was sent an iPhone for a press review and hadn’t been able to make it work.

  Katie and Sophie stood up, holding out their matching pink phones. Moments later, Lila held twelve shiny mobile phones in her hands.

  ‘Put them in my rucksack,’ said Nancy.

  ‘What? Why your rucksack?’ asked Katie.

  Lila tried not to roll her eyes. This was delicate. If anyone got angry or upset they’d take their phone back. Until Nancy had the phones it was a tightrope. There was no signal now, but all it would take would be one person to get one bar, and they’d be in danger again.

  ‘You’re welcome to look after them, Katie,’ she said. ‘I mean, we weren’t supposed to bring them on the trip, and fuck knows what’s going to happen tomorrow when we call the ambulance. I was trying to do a nice thing for everyone and keep the phones out of the way so that we don’t get in trouble when we get back to school on top of this whole mess, but if you’d rather look after them, that’s fine. Really. Be my guest.’

  Katie stared at the ground. ‘It’s cool. You can look after them.’

  ‘I’m going to make a fire,’ said Carmen. ‘It’s getting colder. Come and help me,’ she said, looking at the two Chinese girls.

  Lila opened Nancy’s rucksack and slipped the phones in. The power she held in her hands wasn’t lost on her. Any one of these phones would contain secrets, lies and blurry naked photos. She wondered for a moment whether she could keep them. Even just one. The joy of opening and slipping into the secrets would be gorgeous. But no. She scolded herself. That wouldn’t be smart. She couldn’t afford to make stupid mistakes. There were bigger things at play here. If just one girl got a hint that her phone had been looked at, everything would go to hell. They’d handed over the most precious things they owned. It would be suicidal to mess with that.

  Next month they would all have new phones, of course. Mums would be glad to have something to do, something to make it better when they heard about this horrible, traumatic experience. Once they had checked if it entitled the girls to any extra exam credit, there would be shopping trips and spa sessions and money would wash away any residual unhappiness. And that was why no one would say anything. There was a story now. A story they could stick to.

  NOW

  Lila

  Lila was lying on the cold floor of the kitchen, perfectly still. Her hair had fallen over her face and she felt numb. The scream from her lips turned
into laughter and spilled out of her. Brett’s face was twisted, Charlie had frozen, his glass halfway to his mouth. Even Roo seemed freaked out, his mouth open and slack. They all looked like they thought she was dead. She tried to sit up to stop them making those faces.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. Only when she sat up her head hurt. And actually her elbow. Her elbow really hurt. Maybe she had landed on it.

  ‘Careful,’ shouted Brett, as she went to put her hand down. ‘There’s a broken plate.’

  The plate had smashed in half. It was white, with a blue and gold ring. It was all shiny. It was probably expensive. Georgia had a set of smart plates that she got out when people who mattered came over. She hadn’t got them out for Lila for ages. Lila tried to remember how long it had been. Actually, how long had it been since she and Roo had been invited over with other people? They were only ever invited on weeknights, always just the four of them, and they could count on being home by eleven. Why? Was Georgia embarrassed? She was probably having Charlie’s boring work friends over all the time. They were a million years old and only wanted to talk about work stuff. Lila was glad not to be invited to dinner with them.

  When they were first married, Georgia and Charlie used to throw parties all the time. Proper ones. Then suddenly it was all dinner parties, which weren’t fun. Maybe it was because doing all the cooking and setting the table took up a whole day. Probably more than a whole day. Knowing Georgia, how much she wanted people to think she was good and proper, it could probably take three days. And it wasn’t like she did anything else. She would need something to do.

  ‘What happened?’ she heard Georgia’s voice. She was standing in the doorway of the kitchen looking all annoyed. Georgia shouldn’t have changed. The jumpsuit had looked amazing, it had made her body look good. The dress was boring, like something you’d wear to an office or a wedding, and she’d put those hideous nude heels on. She had kept the dark lipstick, which was probably because she was trying to be polite, but that lipstick didn’t go with that dress. Why couldn’t she see that? It was such a waste, Georgia having all that money. Well, Charlie having all that money. Was it because Georgia had grown up poor? She’d never learned how to do shopping?

  Maybe, Lila wondered, she could sneak into Georgia’s wardrobe and see what was at the bottom of her drawers or the back of the hanging rails – something that Georgia wouldn’t miss. Roo had snipped up her credit card in front of her face and was giving her tiny bits of money in cash so she couldn’t spend it on clothes.

  ‘We were, er …’ Oh. Brett looked embarrassed. ‘We were bench-pressing Lila.’

  Georgia looked cross. Probably jealous because no one wanted to bench-press her. She was too heavy now, surely. Double-digit dress size. DDD as Nancy called it when they were younger. She and Nancy had snuck off for cocktails a few years ago, when Georgia was on honeymoon. Nancy had said then that Georgia was naturally fat because her mother was big. Working-class women always got big after they had children, apparently. But Georgia didn’t even have children and she was at least a size twelve. Did Charles still fancy her? Maybe he didn’t mind. Her tits had got bigger, she still had a waist. Maybe he liked it. Maybe he liked grabbing at all of her body. Roo didn’t like fatness. He made comments about women who walked past them on the street and frowned when their friends ordered pudding. They used to occasionally go to the pub with the couple who lived in the basement flat of their house, until Roo had told the girl that she shouldn’t drink wine because it was liquid calories. He had pointed at Lila’s vodka tonic and explained how much healthier it was. The girl had been upset. Lila had tried her hardest not to feel pleased.

  Nancy was laughing. At least she had a sense of humour. ‘Bench-pressing Lila?’ she asked.

  Lila got to her feet. ‘And it’s Brett’s turn!’

  ‘Oh, Brett didn’t drop you?’ asked Nancy.

  ‘Course not,’ laughed Lila. ‘Charlie dropped me. On the table.’

  ‘You were playing this game too?’ said Georgia. She was flaring her nostrils, which meant she was cross. She wouldn’t say anything because she wanted everyone to like her, but she was definitely cross.

  ‘I’m afraid I was,’ said Charlie, looking at his feet. God, Georgia was mean. This was the first fun part of the night and she was trying to ruin it. Lila turned to face Brett. ‘Your go!’

  Brett looked across the room to Nancy. Lila turned to follow his gaze. Nancy was leaning against the island, resting her glass of red wine against her chin. ‘Please,’ she said, ‘don’t let me stop you.’

  Brett looked to Georgia, who shrugged. She couldn’t bring herself to be the fun sponge. He stepped forward and put one arm behind Lila’s knees and the other behind her waist and whipped her up into the air. Charlie had flopped around and grunted, he’d got her up a bit but then he had staggered and that’s when he’d dropped her on to the table. This was different. It was smooth and easy, Brett made her feel weightless. The strength in his arms controlled her body. She felt something fizzing in her stomach and between her legs, something that she hadn’t experienced for months. Years maybe. The ceiling came closer, and then further away. Suddenly she felt dizzy, dizzy and sick. The back of her throat burned and panic forced its way up her throat, hot sour panic. Not just panic.

  ‘Fuck!’ she heard Brett shout, and the floor came closer, closer.

  Pain blossomed through her head, through her neck, into her arm, her elbow. The floor was cold. Solid and cold. Her mouth was sour. There was noise everywhere and people shouting and oh God, sick everywhere.

  There was sick on Brett’s face, his T-shirt, the table and the floor. She looked from Brett’s horrified face to Nancy’s grin, to Georgia’s shock, listening to Roo and Charlie screaming with laughter, and ran, slamming the kitchen door, down the hall and into the bathroom where she threw herself on the floor, her head resting on the bowl of the loo, staring into the whiteness and waiting for it all to stop, like she had a thousand times before.

  There was a knock at the door.

  ‘Lila,’ came a voice. It was Charlie. ‘Lila, are you OK?’

  ‘We reckon it was the pork,’ came another voice, thick with laughter. Their cackles came through the door. She watched as her black tears dropped on to the pristine whiteness of the loo, trickling down the sides and into the water. Fuck them. Fuck them both. Fuck them and their laughter and their thinking it was funny and their stupid idea to see who could lift her up. They had done this to her. Probably on purpose. They probably wanted to make her look stupid in front of Brett. They had ruined the evening on purpose. That’s what they had done. She listened as Charlie’s footsteps receded. He had gone. He had left her here on her own. She retched again. It wasn’t coming. Calmly she slid two fingers down her throat, felt for the sweet spot and wiggled them. A thick stream of red wine, frothy and sour, came spurting up, splattering the whiteness. Good. That was better.

  Lila choked a sob which echoed into the bowl of the loo. None of it was supposed to be like this. If she were here, would her mother know what to do? Would she know how to fix things? They were supposed to, mothers. Although Lila was a mother now and she didn’t know what to do. Everyone always acted like their parents knew the answers to questions and they remembered to buy toothpaste and they made everything fine. But other people’s mothers didn’t just die.

  Lila hadn’t gone home the weekend that her mother died. There was a match on. Her team were playing the year above. Her father had gently suggested that she should come, but the idea of an afternoon at the hospital, trying to make cheerful conversation and pretend they weren’t all marinating in death, followed by her father’s attempt at cooking – soggy pasta drowned in sour red sauce – was too grim to tolerate. So she had stayed at school. It had been the best weekend ever. They had slaughtered the year above’s team, not least because each time Lila batted she slung the ball way across the field, leaving her time to saunter around all four posts, not even raising a pinkness in her cheeks. Then the
re had been a social that evening. Lila had worn a pink polo shirt and a denim mini skirt with silk ballet pumps. She had teased her hair into a cloud of blond. That night she had kissed four boys. Nancy only managed three. Georgia had got more of course, but as Nancy had told her once, Georgia had sex appeal, and that meant that things were different for her. Sometime that night, around the moment when ‘Angels’ by Robbie Williams was playing and a floppy-haired boy with braces and a pink polo shirt was putting his hand up her top while the chaperones turned a blind eye, Lila’s mother had died.

  Cookie had told her the following morning. They had excused her from chapel and taken her to the office. There had been a box of tissues on the table and the kettle was freshly boiled, as if Lila would want to sit around drinking tea with Cookie, weeping about how her mother had died. She heard the news, adopted the appropriate face and waited to be dismissed. Then she calmly asked if she could spend the afternoon with Nancy and Georgia. It was a prime opportunity to miss lessons together.

  She wiped her fingers on some loo roll and flushed. There was still a ring of red sick around the bowl. She decided not to wipe it away. She’d leave it there for Georgia to find the next morning, a little punishment. She wasn’t quite sure what for.

  THEN

  Nancy

  ‘How did you manage that?’ Nancy asked Carmen, who stood next to her, also watching the fire.

  ‘The fire?’

  ‘Yes. Wasn’t everything wet?’

  Carmen looked pleased. ‘Only on the outside. This must be the first time it’s rained for a while.’

  ‘You’ve made fires before?’

  Carmen nodded, but didn’t say anything. Nancy considered asking how or why she had learned, but she realized she didn’t care. And Carmen wasn’t stupid. She didn’t need to be manipulated into keeping her mouth shut. She had her eye on a US university. Anything legal or messy could ruin it. That was the wonderful thing about these girls, thought Nancy. Ambition. They all wanted things. People who wanted things were much easier.

 

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