Stretching out my fingers, I stepped past him and carried on walking. This time he didn’t stop me but fell into step beside me. I walked so quickly that by the time we reached the Burger Bar I was out of breath. Pete and Vijay were the only two from our usual gang in there.
‘Jayna! I thought you’d still be on holiday,’ Pete said. He stepped forward and gave me a brief hug which I returned.
‘I came back today.’ I forced myself to smile at him. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen Andrew?’
‘Not since before you went on holiday together,’ Pete said, looking from me to Morgan and back again. ‘Why d’you ask?’
‘I just thought he might be in here.’ I shrugged.
Pete looked at Vijay before shaking his head. ‘Where are you off to now?’ he asked, at the same time regarding Morgan with animosity.
‘Home.’
‘Want me to come with you?’
Conscious of Morgan tensing beside me, I said, ‘Would you? That’s very kind of you.’ I’d been dreading leaving the restaurant with only Morgan for company.
‘No problem.’ Pete glanced at his watch, before standing up. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Vijay.’
I risked a glance at Morgan. He was scowling at me. ‘You’d better pray that Andrew turns up soon,’ he said quietly. He turned round and marched out of the Burger Bar.
‘He’s a real charmer, isn’t he?’ Pete said from beside me.
‘Not quite the word I had in mind,’ I said drily. We left the Burger Bar in silence.
‘So what’s going on?’ Pete said at last. ‘Anything you want to tell me about?’
I smiled at him, grateful as never before for Pete’s friendship. And to think that Pete and I almost became an item. What would my life be like if it’d contained Pete rather than Andrew?
Over a year ago Andrew and I had been standing separately outside the local cinema and the main feature had already started. It was obvious we’d both been stood up. It was bucketing down and a chill wind whistled around me, but I was boiling. I glared at Andrew as if it was his fault, daring him to say a word. He might be used to his dates not turning up, but I certainly wasn’t. My first so-called date with Peter Shorman was definitely going to be my last. With a face like a handful of mince, I was just about to march home when Andrew sidled up to me.
He grinned. ‘You been stood up too?’
I glared at him, torn between lying to save my face and flouncing off without another word.
‘Brilliant deduction, Sherlock.’ I turned away.
‘Look, Jayna, I . . . I’ve got two tickets to . . . er . . . see this film and it’d really hurt if one of them went to waste. So why don’t we . . . we could go in and see . . . see it together,’ Andrew stammered in his haste to get the words out. He must have seen the frown deepening on my face because he continued hastily, ‘We wouldn’t be on a date or anything. We’d be . . . just two friends watching the same film.’
I was so livid with Pete I did something I never thought I’d do – spend the evening with Andrew Harrison. ‘I suppose I’ve nothing better to do this evening.’ I shrugged ungraciously. ‘All right, then.’
And that was that. We went in to see the film together, and it turned out to be very good indeed. Andrew and I wandered into a pizza place afterwards – only because we were both hungry – and discussed the film, moving on to other films we’d seen, books we’d read and who we both knew at school. He’d had me in fits of laughter with his screwy sense of humour.
I discovered something unexpected that night. Andrew was all right! Over pizzas he asked me out to see another film I’d already expressed an interest in. It’d only taken me a couple of seconds to say yes. And the rest, as the saying goes, was history.
I didn’t speak to Pete for at least a week, even though he tried to fob me off with dry excuses on a couple of occasions. Finally, and thankfully, he had given up.
We were friends now, Pete and I. But I still reckoned that when he knew he couldn’t make our date, he should have tried to phone me, or at the very least sent me a text message. Leaving me standing outside the cinema like a prize lemon had been totally out of order.
Looking up at him now, I couldn’t help thinking how strange it was, the way things worked out. Now I was almost sorry Pete did stand me up. All that emotional energy I’d expended on Andrew had been for nothing.
‘Come on, Jayna, what is it?’ Pete took my arm and linked it with his own. The gesture was oddly comforting. ‘You look as if you could use a friend.’
I chewed on my bottom lip. ‘It’s Andrew. He left Fipoli and came home without me. The trouble is, no one seems to have seen him since. I’m beginning to get worried. And, of course, his family are blaming me, although it was Andrew who did the bunk, not the other way around.’
Pete was astounded. ‘What happened between the two of you in Fipoli?’
‘Nothing. That’s just it. We were having a great time, until the party.’
‘The party?’ Pete prompted.
I looked up at him, then quickly looked away. ‘Nothing. It’s not important. Right now, all I want to do is find Andrew and make sure he’s OK.’
Abruptly I stopped speaking. Without warning the hairs on my neck had started to prickle. I turned my head and looked down the street. There was no one there.
‘What’s the matter?’ Pete asked, looking down the street with me.
‘I don’t know. I’m not sure.’ I rubbed the back of my neck, but the tickly feeling refused to go away. ‘Let’s go, Pete.’ The prickling turned into a burning. I turned sharply. Something was very wrong.
I could feel it.
16
I LOOKED UP and down the street. The road was empty.
‘Jayna, what are you doing?’ Pete asked.
‘Nothing. Sorry, Pete. I guess I’m just tired.’ I forced a smile and walked faster.
‘I’m sure Andrew will turn up.’ Pete smiled, mistaking the reason for my tension.
‘I hope so.’
‘I know so,’ Pete replied. ‘Now then, I want to know all about your holiday. Where did you go and what did you do?’
For the remaining ten minutes until I reached home, I told him about the places Andrew and I had visited in the first week and a bit of our holiday. But talking about Andrew just made the cocktail of emotions within me swirl and mix until in the end I started to choke up, so I had to stop.
We reached my front gate.
‘Will you be OK, Jayna?’
‘Of course. Or at least, I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep,’ I said, rubbing the back of my neck. ‘And Andrew will probably turn up in the morning with some excuse or other.’
‘I can see you’re tired.’ Pete smiled. ‘Look, if you need me for anything – anything at all – just phone.’
‘I’ll take you up on that. Thanks, Pete.’ On impulse I stretched up and kissed his cheek. ‘Thanks again,’ I said, suddenly self-conscious.
‘Look after yourself, Jayna.’ Pete turned and walked away from me.
I watched him until he turned the corner, then with a sigh I opened the gate and walked to my front door. Shivering slightly, I wrapped my arms around myself for a moment. After searching through all my jacket pockets, I finally found my keys. Opening the door, I turned back to look along the empty street. The lights from the houses opposite made me feel even more alone. Entering an empty house didn’t appeal in the slightest.
‘Oh, Andrew, where are you? I wish you were here . . .’
A strong, icy wind blew past me and into the hall. I shivered as I went in and shut the door. The silence was almost eerie. A strange kind of listening silence. Wearily, I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, not bothering to turn on the hall light as I went. I trudged in, ready to fall on my bed, exhausted from travelling and fatigue and disappointment and worry. I put my hand out to turn on the light switch and someone grabbed my wrist. I opened my mouth to scream blue murder.
‘Jayna, don’t. It’s me . . .
’
‘Andrew?’ I peered through the darkness. All I could see was his outline. ‘Andrew, that is you, isn’t it?’
‘Who else would it be? Pete?’
The relief I felt vanished immediately. Andrew’s voice sounded strange, hard. Sort of hollow.
‘Leave Pete out of this,’ I said furiously. ‘Where the hell have you been? Why did you leave me alone in Fipoli? How could you?’ Once again my hand moved towards the light switch.
‘No, Jayna. Don’t put it on. Not yet.’
‘Why not? I want to see you. I’ve been worried sick. D’you know what you’ve put me through? Look what you’ve turned me into – a nagging harpy. Something else I can thank you for. I sound like my bloody mother.’
‘I didn’t want to leave you – but I had no choice.’
‘What d’you mean?’ I stormed. ‘Let’s hear your excuse then, and it’d better be ace.’
Andrew looked weird in the darkness. Just a hazy shape that wouldn’t keep still, moving restlessly around the room.
‘Jayna, I . . . I’m different now. I look different.’ He was a silhouette against my bedroom window. If the curtains had been drawn or the moon new, I wouldn’t have been able to see him at all.
‘What do you mean – different? Look, I’ve had enough of this.’
Andrew’s hand was on mine the moment after I had switched on the light. I only had time to register that much before he turned quickly so that his back was towards me.
I blinked at him stupidly. How had he made it across my bedroom so quickly? I hadn’t even heard him move. He was dressed in black jeans and a burgundy T-shirt, the hem of which was visible beneath his black leather jacket. He hadn’t had that T-shirt with him on holiday.
‘So you have been home?’ I said, puzzled. ‘I don’t understand. I’ve just come from your place. Your mum was on my case because she hasn’t seen you.’
‘I was there earlier. I changed my clothes but made sure no one saw me.’
‘Why? Your family all think I’ve murdered you and left your body in Fipoli.’
‘I . . . I wanted you to see me first, Jayna,’ Andrew said slowly.
‘I don’t understand. And . . . wait a minute – how did you get in here? All the doors and windows are locked.’
There was a pause.
‘I got past you when you opened your front door,’ Andrew replied at last.
‘I don’t get it. How did you get past me without me seeing you?’ A slow chill ran down my spine. ‘Andrew? Look at me. Please.’ I walked towards him. Without warning he turned round to face me. I gasped and stumbled backwards.
Don’t, Jayna, don’t. It’s Andrew. Don’t. But I couldn’t help it.
I screamed.
17
ANDREW’S FACE TWISTED with regret. ‘I told you I looked different.’
‘My God . . .’
‘It’s still me, Jayna.’ He took a step towards me, his arms outstretched. I stumbled backwards into the bedroom door.
‘Jayna, don’t . . .’ he pleaded. ‘Now you see why I didn’t want anyone to see me before you did.’
I stared – not blinking, even once – and still I couldn’t believe my eyes. His face was pale, as pale as skimmed milk. Even his lips were pale, and thinner than usual.
But it was his eyes . . .
They were no longer the warm jade-green I knew so well; now they were hard and cold, like clear, green glass. It was like looking into the eyes of a stranger.
‘Andrew? What’s happened to you? Are you ill?’ I whispered.
There was a long pause. I wanted him to rush towards me. To hug me and tell me that everything was OK, that nothing had changed between us, that he was the same as ever. But he didn’t. He’d taken a step and I’d backed away. Now he would wait for me to make the next move. All the furious accusations I’d prepared to throw at him vanished like early morning mist. This was my Andrew. He’d never hurt me. Ever. His eyes might have changed but the expression on his face as he regarded me hadn’t. Quelling my nerves, I walked over to him. And still he didn’t move. I stood directly in front of him, drinking in his appearance.
‘Let me see your wrists,’ I asked.
Andrew slowly held out his hands, palms up. I took them in my own. They were cool, almost cold. I leaned in for a closer look. There were no wounds, no puncture marks. His skin was smooth.
‘I thought . . .’ I said, confused. ‘I must’ve imagined . . .’
‘The scars have healed.’ The words were spoken so softly I almost didn’t catch them. ‘Julius offered me a choice, Jayna. Life or death. My decision.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘He bit me . . . then drank my blood.’
My stomach flipped. Oh God! ‘I . . . I hoped all that was just a nightmare I’d had when I passed out. Some kind of hallucination. Or that Julius biting you was the only part of it that had actually happened and the rest was my imagination . . .’
I couldn’t believe what I was saying. Was I really standing here hoping that some psycho lunatic had only bitten my boyfriend but not drunk his blood, like biting people until they bled was somehow normal? I briefly closed my eyes, feeling like seven kinds of a coward. I should’ve gone to the police and told them what I knew when I’d been in Fipoli. I shouldn’t have let Julius get away with it. How many others had been through the same ordeal as Andrew and me? Something told me that we weren’t the first. And it was all my fault. Andrew hadn’t even wanted to go to Julius’s party. I was the one who had insisted otherwise.
‘Jayna, you pleaded for my life but you were too late. Julius told you that, but you didn’t understand. You couldn’t understand. You were too late. I’d lost too much blood. When you begged for my life, he felt sorry for me, for both of us . . . for all of us. So he gave me just enough of his blood to bring me round, then he offered me life or death. My choice. No one else’s. I . . . I chose to live.’
The blood rushing around my body almost drowned out Andrew’s words. How I wished I could drown out his words, every single one of them.
‘Julius saved my life . . . by giving me his blood,’ said Andrew.
‘He bit his wrist,’ I said. ‘I remember now.’ The full horrific memory came limping back. I must have blanked it out, too afraid to remember every detail of what had happened.
‘Julius gave me back my life the only way he could.’ Andrew took a step towards me. ‘When I chose life, he made me drink fully from him, made me the same as him.’
‘But blood transfusions don’t work like that,’ I said, confused.
‘Jayna, I’m not talking about a blood transfusion. I drank Julius’s blood so I’m the same as him now. A . . . vampire. That’s why I couldn’t travel back with you. I can only travel at night now.’
Silence descended around us. A moment’s hesitation, then I began to laugh. To think for a split second there, I’d actually believed him. God, I was gullible.
My smile faded. ‘Andrew, how about you tell me the real reason you deserted me in Fipoli?’
‘It’s the truth, Jayna,’ he said quietly. ‘Julius made me a vampire.’
Did he really expect me to believe that? ‘Yeah, right . . . where are your fangs, then?’ I folded my arms across my chest. Why was I even indulging Andrew in this ridiculous conversation?
‘My teeth only emerge when I’m about to feed. And it’s not just my canines – all my teeth extend.’
‘Of course they do.’ I sighed. ‘Andrew, this isn’t funny any more. Are you going to tell me why you left me to come home alone from Fipoli or not?’
‘Jayna, you’re not listening to me.’
‘If you don’t want to go out with me any more, why can’t you just come right out and say so? Why all this guff? But you should’ve had the guts to tell me before we—’
‘Jayna, shut up!’
Every word in my mouth dried up.
‘I’m telling you the truth,’ Andrew said, exasperated. ‘Don’t you think I know ho
w this sounds? I’m a vampire. It’s what I am now. I can’t go back and I can’t change it.’ He closed his eyes and his whole body slumped before my eyes.
The look of utter despair on his face said so much. I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know what to think. Then I realized. The drinks Julius had given us – he must’ve put some kind of hallucinatory drug in them. I’d thought I’d seen Julius drinking Andrew’s blood. Andrew thought he was a vampire. But why was I over my drink, while Andrew still wasn’t over his? Perhaps because he’d had more than me? Why had Julius done it? What had he done to us when we were both unconscious? We should both go and get ourselves checked out. The doctors would be able to explain.
‘Andrew, I think we should both go to the local hospital. We should see a doctor. Whatever Julius put in our drinks is obviously still in your bloodstream and is making you hallucinate. It might still be in mine. We need to—’
Andrew grabbed my hand and pulled me over to my dressing-table mirror. He stood beside me as I looked into it. I stared and stared until I thought my eyes must surely fall out of their sockets. My image was reflected back normally. Andrew’s wasn’t. In fact, I had to strain to see him. Looking in the mirror, he was a blur – little more than a mist that I could see right through, to the bedroom wall behind us.
‘I’m telling the truth,’ said Andrew quietly.
My blood turned to Antarctic water inside me. I started shaking, and once I’d started I couldn’t stop. My free hand flew to my mouth and I turned to look at him, touching his chest, his face, with tentative fingers. He was solid, real – but cold. I turned back to his reflection. It hadn’t changed. Indistinct mist. Instinctively, I backed away, staring at him.
‘Are you going to turn away from me?’ Andrew asked. His voice was oh so sad.
‘No! Come on! This can’t be real. You’re playing some kind of joke on me, aren’t you? Aren’t you?’ I tried to laugh and failed miserably.
Andrew didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. I searched for something else to say, but my mind went blank.
‘Is that it, then? Are you going to turn your back on me?’ he asked again. ‘Are we over?’
Trust Me Page 8
