Web of Darkness

by Bali Rai

  ‘This is DC Evans,’ said the deputy principal. ‘She’d like to talk to you.’

  I gulped and felt myself blush. Even though I’d done nothing wrong, I felt a pang of shame. ‘Am I in trouble?’ I asked.

  DC Evans smiled. ‘If I had a pound for everyone who says that.’ She was wearing jeans and a white shirt, and carried a black shoulder bag. I wondered why she wasn’t in uniform. ‘I’m helping with family liaison,’ she told me. ‘I’ve been attached to Amy’s family at this difficult time.’

  I gulped down more air and felt a bit queasy. ‘I don’t understand,’ I replied.

  DC Evans nodded. ‘We’re investigating the events running up to Amy’s suicide,’ she explained. ‘She was bullied quite severely, as I’m sure you know. I’m gathering information. I’ll be speaking to a few pupils. You’re just first on my list.’

  I nodded and felt slightly relieved. ‘Everyone knew about the bullying,’ I told her.

  ‘Exactly – the problem is that no one reported it.’

  Again, I wondered why she was talking to me. I felt a creeping sense of paranoia, followed by severe guilt because I was thinking about myself and not Amy. She was the one that mattered. Besides I had reported it, only I didn’t get the chance to tell her straight away.

  DC Evans shifted in her seat. She held a notebook, and a red pencil stamped with the letters ‘HB’ in gold. ‘Did you know that Amy kept a diary?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘We used to be close but we sort of grew apart after coming to this school. She was a loner.’

  The policewoman nodded slowly. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘she seemed to like you.’ I must have looked shocked because DC Evans explained, ‘Amy mentioned you in a passage. She claimed that you helped her, when she was being picked on.’

  I nodded. ‘Yeah – a couple of times,’ I told her. ‘Me and Tilly – that’s my best friend. The last time was in the café at the supermarket.’

  ‘Who was involved?’ the policewoman asked. ‘Who was bullying Amy?’

  I stopped myself from replying right away and thought. If I mentioned Manisha and the others, they’d be in trouble. But if I didn’t speak out, I’d be betraying Amy – and she deserved better than that. This wasn’t a lunch-time argument over something stupid. Amy was dead. There was no choice.

  ‘How many names do you want?’ I asked the officer.

  ‘All that you know of,’ DC Evans replied. She shifted position again and I waited a moment before answering.

  ‘Manisha Patel,’ I said. ‘Mostly, but there were others too – Ria Smith and the rest of Manisha’s gang.’

  As she wrote down some notes, DC Evans nodded. ‘And what about this Facebook page?’ she asked. ‘Do you know who created it?’

  I shook my head. ‘I only looked at it twice,’ I replied. ‘It was nasty.’

  The officer looked at Mr Dhindsa. He glanced at me but said nothing. The expression in his eyes was serious. But not as serious as the look on DC Evans’s face. Her brow was creased and her eyes bored into mine.

  ‘So you didn’t comment or report it?’

  I nodded. ‘We both reported it,’ I told her, before looking away from the intensity of her stare.

  ‘You and . . .?’

  ‘Tilly Anderson,’ I replied, glancing at Mr Dhindsa. He gave a little nod.

  DC Evans made more notes. ‘Did you report it immediately?’

  This time I shook my head. I felt terrible – ashamed and guilty and sad all at once. ‘No – but I should have,’ I said. ‘I know I was wrong not to.’ I wanted to cry.

  Mr Dhindsa gave me a warm look and shook his head. ‘At least you did report it,’ he told me.

  ‘Who were the regular abusers online?’ asked DC Evans. ‘The ones who bullied Amy the most?’

  This time I didn’t pause before replying. I gave her a list of the worst offenders – people who seemed to delight in making Amy miserable. The officer noted every name, as I realized that I hadn’t mentioned the last time I saw Amy.

  ‘There’s something else,’ I told them.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked DC Evans, her expression changing and her eyes lighting up.

  ‘I saw her,’ I revealed. ‘On Sunday evening – down at the local shops.’

  DC Evans put her notebook down. ‘You saw Amy?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Did you speak to her?’

  ‘Yes – she was sitting on the wall outside the pub – The Blues?’

  ‘I know it,’ said DC Evans. ‘Was she alone?’

  ‘Yeah – just sitting there in the cold. I told her to come back to mine but she walked off.’

  ‘Did she say anything to indicate that she might be suicidal?’

  I shook my head. ‘No – she said she wasn’t bothered by the bullies any more,’ I replied. ‘She was on about meeting people like her on some chat room. Said they were helping her.’

  DC Evans grabbed her notebook and wrote quickly.

  ‘That’s important, isn’t it?’ I said.

  DC Evans nodded. ‘It could be,’ she replied. ‘It’s certainly very helpful. Can you try and recall everything she said and maybe let me know?’

  ‘What – right now?’

  She shook her head. ‘No – I think that’s all for the moment,’ she said. ‘If you remember anything else, or want to expand on what you’ve said already, just let Mr Dhindsa know. He has my contact details.’

  ‘OK,’ I told her.

  ‘Just one more thing,’ said the officer.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Has anyone else you know been subjected to anything similar?’

  I thought about it and then shook my head. ‘No,’ I replied.

  The Spider is back in London, some fifteen years earlier. He is about to be kicked off his course. He sits in a pub close to Clapham Common and fumes. He cannot believe his own stupidity.

  He has been hacking into the university computers – all for fun. He doesn’t care about altering grades or anything like that. He does it for amusement – enjoys messing with people’s lives. Moving around graduation details, deleting entire year group histories, altering databases. The results have been small-scale, comical. Nothing to warrant this.

  Some snot-faced whizz kid from India solved the mystery. The Spider did not take care. He left trails because his weaving skills were not ready. The web he’d created was too thin, too flimsy. It failed quickly . . .

  Now he faces the end of his university career. His misdemeanour will follow him. No other institution will have him. Which is why he’s in the pub. Waiting for an acquaintance of his housemate. A man who not only shares his housemate’s appetites but also has the cash to feed them when he chooses. The man has work for him. Nothing major, but it’s a start.

  Soon, his new career will offer greater opportunities and the Spider will be able to put his mistakes behind him. His skills honed, he will be ready to strike again . . .

  12

  I spent the evening sorting out my science coursework, before checking in to Facebook. I was hoping Benedict would be waiting for me. He’d made me feel so much better the night before.

  Hey babe – you OK?

  Hey Benny – yeah fine . . . No, not really. Oh, I don’t know, I’m sorry.

  Don’t apologize. Do you want to talk?

  Yes.

  Guess Amy dying made you think of your dad?

  It was like he could read my mind.

  Not exactly but sort of – if that makes sense.

  I understand – I know how that feels.

  Like, it was more about Amy, you know, but I think my reaction was based on Dad. That’s why I’m so mixed-up, maybe.

  You’re bound to feel weird, Lily. It’s only natural.

  Sometimes you say just the right things, Benny. It didn’t get any better today either.

  Hard day?

  Tough – I got questioned by the police.

  WHY????

  The Amy thing – they wanted to know who was bull
ying her.

  Did you say?

  Yes.

  I thought about what I’d done, and how it might haunt me. If Manisha and the others found out, I’d get serious grief. Thing is, I guessed that DC Evans had asked plenty of other people too. And anyway it had been the right thing to do. Amy deserved it. Manisha and her gang could go to hell.

  I gave her a few names. A horrible bitch called Manisha, some other idiots . . .

  Well done! If more people reported these things . . . How are you feeling?

  Benedict’s interest gave me that warm feeling again. He was the first lad I’d known to ask about my emotions. It felt lovely. It was so annoying that he was so far away. I realized that I wanted him close. I was falling for him and that felt odd. New and weird.

  I feel good for giving the names to the police. But I feel numb too because Amy is gone and it doesn’t feel real. It’s not as bad as when my dad died, but she didn’t deserve any of this.

  I told you, babe – your emotions are natural. You’re a good person – it was bound to affect you this way.

  I saw her – the night before she died. She was acting weird.

  Benedict took his time to reply.

  You saw Amy?

  Yeah. She was acting odd but it was nothing that made me think she might do what she did. I keep wondering if I missed something. Like, in my head there’s this nagging feeling that she said something important, only I don’t know what that was.

  What did she say?

  That’s the problem, Benny – I can’t really remember anything important. It’s just this feeling I have.

  What about the police – what did they say?

  The policewoman thinks it might be important. She told me to think about it and get back to her.

  And have you?

  Not yet. Amy was telling me about meeting people just like her online. She said they were helping her.

  Did she give any clues – any names that could help the police?

  No – she just mentioned it. She was visiting suicide chat rooms so it must be important. It’s hard to know. The police officer didn’t give anything away.

  No names at all?

  None – but maybe the police can investigate. They can search computers and stuff, can’t they?

  Yes. You did good, Lily. Amy would have been proud of you. Your dad too, I reckon.

  His words made me well up and gave me goose bumps. I wished for the millionth time Benedict lived up the street so that I could go and be with him.

  Thank you for saying that, but nothing I do can help Amy now, can it?

  You can help her memory, Lily. Perhaps bring peace to her parents – what do they call it on TV? Closure . . .

  I don’t believe in closure. I don’t think you get used to people you love dying. You just learn to cope with it.

  Maybe you’re right, but remember that Amy wanted to die. Nothing you could have done can change that.

  How do you know that?

  Saw the news reports.

  What – in New York?

  Yeah – it made the papers here.

  That’s crazy.

  Yeah. Did you get a webcam yet? I want to see your pretty face and talk for real. I want to be able to see your emotions, babe. Like, interact properly. Who am I trying to kid? Mostly, I just wanna see your gorgeous smile . . .

  I felt myself blush, and even though he couldn’t see me I looked away from the screen. If he had been there, right then, I think I might have snogged him. He made me feel great inside. I made a mental note about the webcam.

  I haven’t had time. Soon, I promise.

  Look – I’ll just send you mine. No problem. I’ll pay for the postage.

  It’s OK, honestly – I’ll get one. Just busy with stuff.

  But I want to see you.

  I got that warm feeling again. My emotions were on a roller coaster. I had these growing feelings for Benedict, and that made me happy. But Amy was in there too. And my dad. My head felt light and my thoughts were jumping around randomly. I felt a bit dizzy. I looked at the last reply and wanted to smile. Only, I couldn’t.

  If you want to see me, look at my photo albums. Although they aren’t very nice.

  Already done that and they were great! Want to see more.

  Haven’t got any more.

  Take some photos of yourself – post them? Please?

  I shook my head and this time the smile came. What harm could a simple self-shot do? I told myself. The thought of it made me feel like a rebel. For a moment, I wondered if Molly felt the same way when she posted selfies. Was it something you could get addicted to? And was I a hypocrite for slagging her off, when I was about to do something similar? Then I saw Amy’s face and I started to think about how life was short. Plus I really liked Benedict.

  OK – I will.

  I grabbed my phone and reversed the camera. Only, every time I posed, my face looked podgy and I wasn’t happy.

  I can’t. I look fat.

  You’re not fat! You’re a real girl. A gorgeous girl. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.

  You don’t have to look at my bum in a mirror.

  People come in all shapes and sizes, Lily, I’ve said this to you before. It’s what they do and how they are as a person that matters. You’re warm and lovely and damn pretty too.

  I’m blushing.

  Come on, babe – just a few pics – please?

  As I thought about taking a pic, Benedict sent one of himself. It was of his body – no face. He was wearing red jeans, with the button fly undone so that his white boxers were showing. His stomach was solid and ridged with muscle. A thin line of dark hair ran from his belly button down into his underwear. I felt myself blush.

  Benny!

  You like????

  Yeah!

  Your turn!

  No way! I’m not showing you my underwear.

  Nothing nasty, I know you’re not that kind of girl. Just a teaser – please??? If you do, I’ll tell you my great news.

  Tell me first.

  No – pic first!

  Better be good – this news . . .

  You’ll love it – promise!

  OK – YOLO. Give me a second.

  I lay down on bed so I could get a good angle, opened three buttons on the top I’d worn for school and held the camera up. The picture looked OK and I liked it. Not slutty or nasty. Just a peak of my bra – nothing explicit. I snapped.

  Uploading it from my phone now, Benny. My PC is shit. Please don’t ever show it to anyone else!

  Cool – can’t wait! And of course I won’t share it. It’s gonna be all mine, babe!

  We chatted some more before Benedict saw my selfie. His reaction made me grin like a fool.

  OMG!!! Lily – you’re beautiful!

  No I’m not!

  Even though I was protesting, Benedict’s words made me feel great. I felt like a proper woman, not some kid.

  Lily! You’re amazing. Man, if I lived in England . . .

  My grin morphed into a beam so wide my jaws started to ache. I’d never had a reaction like this from anyone.

  I bet you meet loads of gorgeous girls. I’m just ordinary.

  Models are vain – you’re cool! Wow at the underwear too.

  Just an ordinary bra.

  On anyone else, ordinary, yeah. On you though! Man, I might need to lie down a while . . .

  You nutter! Now tell me the news.

  You got a company called Next in England, yeah?

  Yeah – why?

  They might want me to model for them.

  No way!

  Yeah – said they want me to come see them at their offices – like next month.

  I felt like screaming but managed to hold it in.

  But their offices are near me! Like, here in Leicester.

  I saw that. We’re just sorting out the details . . .

  OMG!!!!

  Is that all the reaction I get?

  YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

&nb
sp; Better!

  I can’t believe it!

  Send me your address then – I’ll post the webcam and then, when I get there, I can come pick you up.

  This is just mad!!!!

  In my head, I wondered if I was having a daydream. It all felt so unreal – so perfect. It was like someone had taken my deepest desires and made them come true. I felt like a heroine in a romance novel.

  We’ll be able to meet up – catch a drink or something . . .

  I know!

  Can’t wait to meet you in the flesh, babe – especially after seeing you tonight. Send me those details.

  I tried to hold in the second shriek but it was too strong. I jumped on my bed, and buried my face in my pillow to muffle the sound. I screamed my head off – until Amy’s face reappeared in my mind. The happiness vanished and the guilt returned, and I wished that I could just shut my eyes and forget everything but Benedict.

  PART TWO

  Four weeks later . . .

  The OTHER sits patiently, waiting, watching. Girl #3 is on her way. He eyes the pay-as-you-go mobile he picked up in Asda. The Spider clued him to their use. They made perfect sense – untraceable, disposable, anonymous . . .

  The girl is nervous when she arrives. He smiles at her. Her features relax immediately. She looks around the deserted street, then climbs into the car. He smiles again before speaking.

  ‘You made it,’ he says.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Are you OK?’

  The girl looks around, turns back to him – smiles. ‘Yeah. Where you taking me today?’ she asks.

  ‘I know a great pub – it’s in the countryside. Quiet – no one will know us.’

  ‘Sounds great,’ she tells him.

  ‘I was worried you might back out – maybe have second thoughts,’ he tells her.

  The girl shrugs. ‘So was I,’ she says.

  ‘But you came?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she tells him. ‘Here I am. Again.’

  The Spider’s new web is growing bigger. He is ready to strike again. Boy #1 will be next.

  For the Spider, sitting in the shadows had become monotonous. The pleasure had diminished. This feels new. It feels like a challenge. It feels like destiny.

  But the risks are great. It is easier to hide inside the Web. The real world presents many more challenges. The real police aren’t as dim-witted as their cyber cousins. They will investigate and make connections. The Spider knows he cannot slip up like he did when he was younger. One mistake, one loose thread, and his creation will come tumbling down. He must weave, trap, devour and move on. He is not ready, yet, to be caught . . .