Laura

by Amy Cross

  Chapter Sixteen

  Today

  “Are you sure you'll be okay in here?” I ask, sitting on the end of the bed in the spare room. “If you prefer, you can take my bed and I'll -”

  “Don't be silly,” she replies, coming through from the bathroom. She's changed into a t-shirt and pajama shorts, and she takes a moment to set her toiletries back in her little bag.

  “You could have just left those on the sink,” I tell her.

  “I don't want to spread out all over your house.”

  “I don't mind.”

  Turning, she leans down to put the bag in her backpack. As she does so, the front of her t-shirt dips down and I accidentally see most of her left breast. It's only a momentary glimpse and I quickly force myself to look away, but I can't help wondering if she intended for that to happen, if it's some kind of signal. Then again, she's probably just relaxed around me, she probably doesn't see me remotely in a sexual way. And this is definitely not the time to be letting these thoughts into my head. I need to get a grip.

  “I should let you have some peace,” I mutter, getting to my feet.

  “It's okay,” she replies. “I like you being in here.”

  I force a smile, but to be honest I'm feeling a little uncomfortable.

  “Actually, Elliot,” she continues, sitting on the edge of the bed, “I don't really want to be alone right now. Everything feels like such a mess, and I'm scared that if I'm alone, I'm going to go mad thinking about it all.” She pauses. “Do you remember all the times at uni when you used to make me feel better? I've never had a friend like you, Elliot. Somehow you always know what to say.”

  Even though I feel a little nervous, I sit next to her, and she quickly leans her head on my shoulder.

  “Should I call Toby in the morning?” she asks. “Or should I just leave him alone for a while and give him time to think.”

  “He doesn't believe those photos are real, does he?” I reply. “The faked ones, I mean. Surely he knows you well enough to know that you'd never do something like that.”

  “That's what hurts the most,” she continues, sniffing back tears. “He's my husband, he's supposed to be the person who knows me better than anyone, but he actually believes that I'd cheat on him. You should have seen the anger in his eyes, Elliot, he was furious. I want to make everything okay, but at the same time I don't want to go crawling back and begging on my knees.” She pauses, before changing her position and setting her head on my lap, looking up at me. “What do you think I should do?”

  For the next hour or so, we talk about her situation. I tell her to call Toby in the morning, and to go to the police, but she seems hesitant about both ideas. Eventually she decides to send Toby a message, but she's still adamant that she doesn't want to get the police involved. She seems to be hoping that if she ignores the whole thing, it might somehow blow over and she can get on with her life. I wish I agreed with her, but it's hard to believe someone would try to hurt her like this and would then just give up. In the back of my mind, I'm starting to think she might even be right about this being someone from the past, someone who knows what happened all those years ago.

  Finally she falls asleep with her head still resting on my lap. I should gently slip out of the way, but I don't want to wake her, and besides I figure I can sit like this for a little while. It's actually kind of nice to be with her again, even if nothing has really changed since our days at uni. I watch her sleeping for a moment, and I honestly think I've never seen anyone so beautiful in my whole life.

  She's perfect.

  Suddenly I spot something moving on the landing. I turn and look over at the door, and for a fraction of a second I spot Laura walking past, staring in at us.

  “Jesus!” I hiss, jumping up from the bed and – in the process – knocking Sophie aside.

  “What's wrong?” she stammers, clearly a little dazed. “Elliot?”

  I stare at the door, and now there's no sign of Laura at all. Still, my heart is pounding and I make my way over, peering out along the landing to make sure that no-one else is in my house.

  There's no sign of her.

  Of course there's no sign of her.

  She's been dead for years.

  “Elliot?” Sophie asks again. “You're freaking me out. What's going on?”

  “I thought...” I hesitate for a moment, before turning to her. “Nothing,” I continue. “Sorry, I think I was just starting to nod off and then I had this brief flash of...” I take a deep breath, trying to get my panic under control. “You know what? I think I'm so tired, I've started to see things. I really need to go to bed and get some rest.”

  “That's probably a good idea,” she mutters, turning and settling herself properly, with her head on the pillow. “Thank you for everything tonight, Elliot. You're the best friend anyone could ever ask for. I don't know what I'd have done without you. Not just now, but ever since uni.”

  “Don't worry about it,” I tell her. “And tomorrow we'll figure out where to go from here, okay? Tomorrow we'll come up with a plan.”

  Once I've pulled the door shut, I make my way through the rest of the house, checking every room. I know Laura wasn't here just now, I know I just had some kind of exhaustion-induced brain-fart, but it was still incredibly freaky to see her peering in at me just now. I guess I was just having a weird flashback to our uni days, to the time when Laura was causing trouble for everyone. The human mind is a strange and mysterious thing, and I guess it just throws up these strange associations every so often. Still, once I've checked all the rooms, I end up sitting alone in the kitchen, drinking a beer and listening to the silence of the house.

  Maybe Sophie's right. Maybe we do deserve it if the truth about Laura starts to come out.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ten years earlier

  “Hey there, soldier!”

  Sighing, I realize that even on my walk to campus, I'm not immune from Laura's attempts to help. Turning, I see that somehow she's caught up to me.

  “You look so totally pleased to see me, dude,” she continues with a smile. “You also looked very comfortable on the bed with Sophie. It's hard to believe you and her aren't an item yet.”

  “Laura...”

  “Of course it's also kind of tragic. I mean, unrequited love is romantic for a while, but at some point you kind of need it to get requited, otherwise it just becomes sad. Or maybe sad isn't the word. Maybe pathetic is more appropriate. You must know that she has feelings about you, right? I mean, she's never actually said that to me, because she and I aren't that close, but it's the most obvious thing in the world.”

  “Don't you ever get bored of this subject?” I ask as we head along the path that leads to the university's library. “Because I'm getting bored of it.”

  “Everyone looks so depressed today,” she continues perkily. “Why are they all so upset that a known drug dealer killed himself? Can't people see that it's a good thing and -”

  “Stop!” I say firmly, turning to her. “Laura, please, just... Nobody wants to hear that right now!”

  “Why not?”

  “A guy died!”

  “I know that, dummy,” she says, rolling her eyes. “He hung himself from a beam in his bedroom. At least he had the decency to put a bag over his head first, so no-one would have to see his face.”

  “A bag?” I pause. “Who said he put a bag over his head?”

  “Oh, I...” She hesitates, seemingly a little nervous. “I just head someone talking, that's all.”

  “I'm going to the library so I can try to get some work done,” I tell her. “Can you please just leave me alone?”

  “Fine,” she replies, stepping past me and pulling the door open. “I was coming here anyway, you know. I didn't just follow you for no reason.” She takes a USB drive from her pocket. “I have some photos I need to check out,” she continues. “I think they might be pretty interesting.”

  “That's great,” I reply, slipping past her, “and I h
ope you have a great time. Now please just leave me alone.”

  “You can come and look at the pictures with me, if you want,” she calls after me. “I've got a feeling you might find them pretty interesting.”

  “Go to hell,” I mutter under my breath, not even bothering to look back at her. “That's where you came from in the first place, isn't it?”

  ***

  “I'm going to kill her. I swear to God, one day she's going to go too far and I'm going to...”

  Sighing, Nick slumps down in the chair next to me, at a table in the far corner of the library. He's already starting to roll a cigarette, so I guess he's not staying too long.

  “And who are you going to kill?” I ask, realizing that he's not going to let me get on with making notes. “If this is about Lynn -”

  “Not her,” he replies. “Well, her too. But I'm talking about that bloody Laura.” He lets out an annoyed grunt as he accidentally tears the Rizla paper. Sighing, he has to start a new cigarette. “Why do some people think they can stick their noses in everyone else's business?”

  “She can be kind of pushy,” I mutter. “What's she done now?”

  “She was trailing me around the computer room earlier,” he explains, “going on and on about whether or not people think she's a slut. And then she started ranting about how people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, and about how she wants to make people regret saying bad things about her. I swear, I can still hear her annoying voice rattling in my head. Finally I just had to tell her I'm busy, and send her off to find someone else.”

  “She pissed Sophie off earlier too.”

  “It's pretty hard to piss Sophie off.”

  “Well, she managed it. I think she's on some kind of mission to make everyone hate her.” I turn to another page in the textbook, before closing it altogether. This attempt to find a distraction has been a complete failure. “It's like she got set off on some crazy course the other day when Lynn called her a slut. I mean, I kind of understand why she'd be upset, but now it's almost as if she wants to cause problems for everyone else. I'm starting to think our little gang of six could do with being pruned down to five.”

  “It's not like Lynn was exactly lying.”

  “That's a little extreme, Nick.”

  “Laura sleeps with a lot of guys.”

  “It's still not nice to call her a slut.”

  “She kept mentioning some photos she'd found,” Nick continues. “That was the other thing that bugged me just now.”

  “What kind of photos?”

  He shrugs. “She just said she had some photos that someone wouldn't like to see released. Again, she was being completely annoying about the whole thing. She constantly brought them up in the conversation, but then she acted all mysterious whenever I asked about them. Typical bloody attention-seeker.” He finishes rolling his cigarette, before getting to his feet. “I'd better go out and smoke this. Maybe it'll help me to calm down a little.”

  “Do you want to get a drink later?” I ask. “Just something to help us blow our brains out for a few hours?”

  “Sounds good. I just want this entire bloody week to be over. I feel like suddenly we're all cursed.”

  As he heads out of the library, I can't help thinking that maybe he's right. After a moment, however, I hear a faint bumping sound nearby, and I turn just in time to see Laura watching from the next aisle.

  “Hey,” she says, stepping into view. “Nice chat?”

  I open my mouth to reply.

  “Save it,” she continues, before I get a chance. “I heard the whole thing. Don't worry, I'm not offended. I mean, most of what you guys were saying was true.” She pauses. “And it was nice of you to defend me like that. At least now I know who thinks I'm a slut and who doesn't.”

  “Nick was just -”

  “I know what Nick was doing,” she adds, interrupting me again. “I never realized that people had such strong opinions about me. It's weird how quickly things can change, but I guess I can change too. Maybe I should find someone a little more steady, someone I can stand to be around for longer than five minutes.” She takes a deep breath. “Yeah. I'm definitely going to de-slut myself. I can do that.”

  She pauses again, before stepping closer and pulling a chair toward me. When she sits, her knees bump against mine.

  “Sophie's very lucky to have someone like you pining after her,” she continues. “She doesn't deserve it.”

  “Maybe we shouldn't talk about this,” I reply, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. “I might just go outside and -”

  “You shouldn't waste too much time getting hung up on her. I know what I said earlier, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe you're too good a guy to spend your whole life lusting after someone who prefers to go out with human trash like that Tommy guy.”

  “Sophie is -”

  “Do you want to go and get a drink?”

  I freeze, seeing the hint of anticipation in her eyes. “Um...”

  “It's not a trick question,” she adds.

  “I think a few of us were thinking of going to the pub tonight,” I tell her cautiously. “Maybe around eight? We were going to invite you, and -”

  “The old gang of six?”

  “Laura...”

  “Don't lie to me!” she snaps. “I don't like it when people lie. No-one was going to invite me, and now you're just doing it because you feel uncomfortable. What's wrong, is the idea of going on a date with me so horrible?” She stares at me for a moment, before pulling her chair closer until her left leg slips between my knees. “We can go somewhere nice after, just the two of us,” she continues. “The good thing about have a slutty past is that you get a lot of practice at certain things, and you know what they say about practice.” She places a hand on my leg. “It makes -”

  “I should go,” I tell her, pulling back and getting to my feet. “Really.”

  “I'll blow you right now,” she continues, “in the bathroom down the hall.”

  “I'm going to go find Nick,” I reply, “and see if he wants to hit the pub early. If you want to meet us there, we can -”

  Suddenly she reaches out and tries to grab my crotch. I pull back, and I see a flash of irritation in her eyes.

  “Are you saving yourself for Sophie?” she asks. “I can show you a much better time, and it won't just be a fling. I'm looking for something serious. Or are you worried about catching something?”

  Gathering my books, I mumble something about seeing her later, and then I turn to leave.

  “Fine,” she calls after me, “I'll get someone else. Maybe Dave from the second year, or how about that Jonathan guy? You'll be surprised how much I can change, Elliot. One day, you'll barely even recognize me!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Today

  “I got a message.”

  Turning, I see that Sophie is finally awake. Still wearing the same t-shirt and shorts from last night, she comes across the kitchen with her phone in her hands, and I see a hint of shock on her face.

  “From Toby?” I ask cautiously.

  She pauses, staring at the screen as if she can't believe what she's seeing.

  “Who's it from, Sophie?”

  “Hey bitch,” she reads from the phone, “how do you like all the fun so far? There's more coming soon, so stay tuned. Enjoy your stay at your new boyfriend's house.”

  Taking the phone from her, I read the message.

  “Whoever this bastard is,” she continues, her voice trembling with anger, “he must be physically following me! He knows that I came here to stay with you!”

  “That doesn't mean -”

  “Who else knows?” she asks. “Toby probably guessed and obviously Martha saw me last night, but I'm pretty damn sure that neither of them is responsible for what's happening. Have you told anyone else?”

  I shake my head.

  “Not even Victoria or Lynn, or Nick?”

  “No-one.”

  “Then someone's following me,” she co
ntinues. “Someone's literally stalking me and watching my every move.” She steps past me and heads to the window, peering out at the garden. “They might be there right now, hiding somewhere with a pair of binoculars.”

  “I'm pretty sure there's no-one hiding in my garden,” I tell her.

  She turns to me. “It has to be someone from our past. Someone who knew us back in our days at uni, or at least someone who managed to find out about us.” She pauses. “Some of the photos that were put online must have come from Tommy's computer. If he didn't share them, then obviously it's someone who knew him well enough to get onto his machine ten years ago and take the photos. Maybe he was the one who made the fakes, all those years ago. And someone just found them and decided to use them.”

  “This is starting to sound a little convoluted,” I point out.

  “But -”

  Before she can finish, her phone buzzes again. She looks down at the screen, and I immediately hear a faint gasp.

  “Having a good chat?” she reads out loud. “Elliot has a nice kitchen.”

  “Sophie -”

  She hands the phone to me before unlocking the back door. Once I've read the message and seen that it really does seem very specific, I follow her out into the garden. Morning sunlight is streaming down, but there's no sign of anyone.

  “Where are you?” Sophie yells. “Why are you hiding? Wouldn't it be more fun to come out and face me, and show you're not a coward?”

  “They were probably just guessing,” I tell her. “It's not like -”

  Suddenly I hear her phone buzzing again. I turn to look back into the kitchen, but Sophie quickly hurries past and grabs the phone again, just as it buzzes one more time. I wait for her to read the latest message, but instead she simply stares at the screen as if she can't quite believe what she's seeing.

  “What is it?” I ask, glancing around the garden again before turning back to Sophie. “What does it say?”