The Mute and the Liar

by Victoria Best

  I scroll up and see a whole string of messages. The further I scroll up, the older the messages. There are loads of them, jumping back and forth over years. Sometimes, if they’re both online, the conversations will last for hours, and sometimes there will just be one message intended to be read by itself as more of an email than intended to start a conversation. As I scroll up, I catch bits and pieces of conversations they’ve had, words springing out from unsuspecting places, disjointed sentences hanging on their own, a whole patchwork of scrambled letters.

  10th January 2011

  Jayce Cobalt - Sasha Rabinovich

  *****

  Sash I miss you you douchebag answer my text?

  *****

  14th June 2010

  Sasha Rabinovich - Jayce Cobalt

  JAYCIEEE! hows elmview? met any fitties yet? ;) Sophies party was so bad without you me and ryo was just sat there bored as hell. you better come home soon! say hi to nick for me. Hope your ok and txt me when you get this.

  *****

  10th May 2010

  Sasha Rabinovich - Jayce Cobalt

  Jayce get your ass home NOW me and ryo are so bored without you! hate ur mum for kicking you out! who are we gonna party with? Who are we gonna throw paper at peggy lambert with now to entertain us in geography? we miss you like hell man. From sash and ryo xxxx (you get four kisses because three is overrated)

  *****

  19th February 2009

  Sasha Rabinovich - Jayce Cobalt

  Jayce look im sorry. please just answer your phone. Ryo just didnt no what he was doing. she loved you, jayce, she did. you dont understand anything. look im upset to you dont no how close we was. dont block me out like this. please just answer your phone.

  *****

  Is he talking about Becky? Is that the day that it all went wrong? So this Sasha person was a part of this situation too? I think I remember the name from somewhere. Oh yeah, that's right. Jayce said yesterday that the reason they beat her was because they thought she had slept with Ryo's best friend Sasha. This must be him. He is also the person whose party I am now apparently going to.

  This just gets even more confusing.

  I can't help myself. I have to look at more of Jayce's messages. He must be contacting someone, and I also can't rule out the possibility that he's working for or with someone. Now is the perfect time.

  I tap a few buttons and find myself at a page listing his various conversations with people, although it seems he doesn’t use this website too much; his most recent messages were sent a few weeks ago. Kaylie Merrick is one of the names that pops up, but when I look at the messages, it's just a few boring 'hey-how-are-you' conversations all started by Kaylie and left unanswered by Jayce.

  That's when I see something intriguing. I scroll up to the beginning of their conversations and start reading from the very top to the bottom. It’s a name I never expected to see.

  Becky Meyer.

  *****

  14th October 2008

  Becky Meyer - Jayce Cobalt Heyy :') xxx

  Jayce Cobalt - Becky Meyer Hi

  Becky Meyer - Jayce Cobalt How are you? Xxx Jayce Cobalt - Becky Meyer Erm ok thanks you Becky Meyer - Jayce Cobalt

  -Very good thank you :’) xxx

  *****

  -Look I'm really sorry about Ryo today. I'm sure he didn't mean it. He's just having lots of problems with his family atm :/ xxx

  -Btw I talked to him about it and asked him to leave you alone. I don't think he will be acting that way any more xxx

  Jayce Cobalt - Becky Meyer

  Erm thanks I guess but I can handle this myself. I don't need your help. Becky Meyer - Jayce Cobalt

  Oh ok. I was just trying to help. I just want you to be happy, that's all :’) xxx

  *****

  19th February 2009

  Jayce Cobalt - Becky Meyer

  I was already happy, Becky. No matter how bad things got, no matter how badly Ryo hurt me, I was always happy. Because everyday there was a chance I might have seen you.

  *****

  28th February 2011

  Becky Meyer - Jayce Cobalt

  I hope you're ready to put the plan into action xxx

  *****

  His message to her must have been sent after her death. She's supposed to have been beaten to death two years ago. And yet only three days ago she sent him a message. 28th February 2011. The day I got kidnapped.

  Chapter Seventeen

  This is… this is impossible. What’s going on? I keep staring at that message, trying to figure out if I've just read it wrong. But no, it was definitely sent on the 28th. It can’t be…

  I click back to the menu and tap the button for text messages. It’s just like I thought. The last message he received was from no other than Becky Meyer. Again, I scroll up so I can read as many messages as possible chronologically and, worried that I don’t have enough time before Jayce comes back, start reading from about midway.

  *****

  12th February 2011

  Did you see her? I did.

  And? What do you think? Can you do it? I’ll try.

  Pop quiz. Go.

  She only eats…

  Cereal for breakfast, almost always cornflakes, but she had porridge every morning from the 12th December leading up to 17th December. She misses lunch but she has pasta for dinner, always ASDA’S £1 Napolina Farfalle.

  Where does she go at lunchtime at school?

  She goes to the library and works or reads, although she sat in a classroom November 2nd.

  What’s she currently reading?

  She was reading Hobbes’ Leviathan from the 14th to the 30th of January, but commencing 5th February she has been reading Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. What did she wear January 22nd?

  £28 grey ASOS skinny jeans and a black t-shirt with three quarter length sleeves and a picture of a moon and the silhouettes of three howling wolves.

  *****

  14th February 2011

  Are you there? Yes.

  Interesting breakthrough. You know the diary she writes her cases in? Yes.

  Yesterday she was writing in it like a diary. Not just to solve crimes.

  You want me to get hold of it?

  Take it tonight and read it to me over the phone. I wish you’d let me hear your voice.

  You know I can’t. It’s still too risky. I’ll call you at 11.30. You should have the diary by then, right? I can’t say anything over the phone, but just read me what it says.

  *****

  16th February 2011

  Her ambition?

  To become a detective or private investigator. Interesting because?

  She dislikes her father. Favourite number?

  Seven. Hey, Becky. I’ve been thinking. Why is Alicia so important?

  I’ve told you. Her father is a detective chief inspector. He’s the only person who could get away with murder. And we need your mother dead.

  Does it have to be like this, though? What’s the point? What’s it all for? You’ve always wanted to get rid of your mother.

  But why does it matter to you? What’s in it for you?

  I have my reasons. Come on, Jayce. Don’t get cold feet on me now. We’ll be together soon. That’s what you want, isn’t it?

  Becky. You know I do. I just don’t think I want all this.

  We’ve been through this. It’s the only way. Now remind me, what is our ultimate goal with regard to the girl?

  I’ve got to make her speak somehow.

  Good. And tell me, what are you trying to find out?

  I’m trying to get to her to tell me whether she somehow killed her mother, and to get her to tell me what she said to her mother the day before her mother’s suicide. Actually, Becky, why do you care about that as well?

  It just interests me, that’s all.

  And how do you know so much about Alicia anyway?

  Jesus, this is starting to sound like an interrogation. I’m the one asking the questions, not you. N
ow, back to the quiz. Tell me; where did she go December 11th?

  *****

  It goes on like that. It’s been going on for months. The first message was sent on 5th December 2010. That’s almost three months ago. The thing is, these messages actually do appear to have been sent by Becky, or at least the person sending these messages is using her phone. I know this because before the 5th December there are loads of other conversations between the two, but these took place in the time she was still alive. So it seems like an open-and-shut case: someone has taken hold of Becky’s phone and is manipulating Jayce.

  But then again, I can’t rule out the possibility that, just like she tells him, she is still alive.

  The very first conversation they have is by far the strangest.

  It goes:

  Jayce. To which Jayce takes a good six hours to reply to.

  Who is this?

  You’ve already deleted my number? I feel hurt, Jayce. You’re not Becky.

  Haha! I knew you hadn’t deleted my number! I knew you were just joking! That’s so funny! You’re so funny, Jayce! You’ve always had such a good sense of humour.

  Remember when we were all round Alex’s and you said you wished you were pregnant so you could just demand food and everyone would bring it to you and not question any weird cravings you get?

  Who is this?

  Or that time we saw a poster that had a girl winking on it and you said if people winked in real life even half as much as they did in text messages, the world would be a very creepy place, and Donny and Sasha didn’t stop sending you winking text messages after that!

  I mean it. What kind of sick joke is this? I’ll report you. Who are you?

  Or that time we were round Ryo’s and when he left the room we changed his phone wallpaper, his laptop wallpaper and his profile picture all to this picture of a rabbit with an ice cream cone on it’s head? That was so funny! Do you remember that, Jayce? Stop it. Right now. Is that you, Sasha? This isn't funny. This is the worst, most disgusting thing you could possibly do. You need to stop, right now.

  Or what about that time we nearly kissed, Jayce?

  Jayce doesn’t answer, so she sends him another message.

  Haha. Gotcha. You remember that one, all right. You’re so funny. You’ve always been funny, Jayce. You were always my favourite.

  Jayce still doesn’t reply.

  I know everything about you. You think you were the one watching me and following me and taking notes. But every time you turned around and headed back home, that’s when I turned around too. That’s when I started following you. I can tell you more about yourself than you can. Tragic life you’ve got there, isn’t it? Nice melodramatic back-story. Some preteen girl should write it down to put in her Twilight fanfiction.

  Bullied for speaking too posh, dressing too proper, being too clever. Falling into a youth gang on a killing spree, and then falling for a girl that his new friends killed in front of his eyes. Dad’s in prison, but you can’t really complain about that one, because you’re the one who put him there. Greatest wish is to see his mother dead. It’s all very dramatic, isn’t it? Someone should let Evanescence know we’ve written her next single.

  I can’t think. I’ve always been able to trust my own senses, to work out what’s going on in a crime straight away. But here there is nothing to trust. There is nothing to work out. Everything just blurs into the next. I can’t tell who I’m supposed to antagonise, who I’m supposed to believe. I was so sure Jayce was acting of his own accord, what, and now some dead girl pops up and is apparently controlling his every move? That’s impossible! Who is she? What does she want? Why is Jayce still going along with this?

  And I can’t believe how much that person seems to know about me. I’ve never met this person, never seen this person. I don’t even know what I wore January 22nd, how they do sends me in ice-bath shivers. Someone’s been watching me. This is... terrifying. I realise I’m shaking. I think I'm going to be sick.

  They might have been watching me for months, maybe even years. Following me. Documenting me. And all this time I’ve never realised. I’m supposed to be an observant person. Apparently not. ‘Becky’ brings up her mastermind idea in her next text.

  Why don’t you make that wish come true, Jayce?

  Jayce replies for the first time, having ignored her past messages.

  What wish?

  To see your mother dead. Why not? Why waste your whole life wishing for something when it will never happen?

  Maybe because it’s murder? What’s wrong with you? You need to stop this. Here’s an idea. Make someone ELSE do the murder FOR you. Then you’re not doing any murdering at all.

  What’s wrong with you?

  There’s a girl who lives in one of those Victorian terraced houses a couple of streets away from you. She’ll be valuable.

  Why?

  Haha. Got you interested, haven’t I? Her dad’s Detective Chief Inspector Lewis. Name ring any bells?

  Marty.

  Bingo. The moment there was a single suspicion good old Marty Wilson hadn’t just had one two many and “gone for a swim” in the river, Mr Lewis was assigned to investigate.

  I refuse to believe someone who isn’t supposed to exist has engineered everything up until now, has planned out this whole escapade, is forcing Jayce to do this. That makes no sense. There’s no sanity in that.

  This person wants Jayce’s mother dead, I get that. So why not just do it themselves? Why go through all these measures just to do that? It’s ridiculous! Why would they even want Jayce’s mother dead anyway? What’s it to do with them?

  I just don’t understand.

  I just don’t understand!

  As well as being terrified a person has been watching me, there's another nauseous feeling swirling in my stomach and prickling at the back of my neck. I’m scared because I’ve always been able to solve whatever’s in front of me. I’ve always known. There was always a way or an idea I could come up with through logic and rationality.

  But here, no matter how much I think about it, I can’t work out anything. I try and try, but my mind just keeps pulling up nothing. I am fumbling disorientated for the light-switch in the dark. I’m fighting things I can’t see. I’m standing in front of things I don’t believe in.

  Hopeless.

  I’ve had enough. You think impersonating a dead girl is funny, do you? Who said anything about me being dead?

  I don’t know, maybe everyone at the funeral? The gravestone in Haycombe Cemetery? Me when I watched them do it?

  Whether you believe that I’m alive or not, the fact is, I’m here. I’m right here, talking to you. And no matter what you believe, you can’t deny that. I want to help you, Jayce. And then we’ll run away. We’ll finally be together. That’s all you ever wanted, isn’t it?

  I have no leads, no clues, no ideas. There is nothing I can do now. And that terrifies me.

  What… What the hell is going on?

  What the hell is going on?

  Chapter Eighteen

  4:30 PM

  She’s got too much make-up on. It’s as thick and sticky as beeswax. The powder shielding her face has started to crumble and so now her skin, though seemingly cleansed of all blemishes, has blossomed scales instead.

  The red lipstick is too heavy on the left-hand side, pulling her mouth down and leaving her whole face looking lopsided. The eyeliner smokes her eyes into black bulbs. The only thing pretty about her is her chestnut mane of curls, very much living and alive. They tumble and twist down her back, entwining and knotting. But they look dry. Ratty. Everything about her is fake.

  Kaylie and I stand and watch her, both disapproving.

  The two girls in the mirror do the same, disapproving us. So altogether, four disapproving faces burn through me. “You look miserable,” she eventually spits.

  Hypocrite. Have you seen yourself lately, Miss Havisham? But though I hate to say it, she’s right.

  I look miserable. And with he
r beside me we have enough misery between the two of us to fuel Azkaban.

  *****

  4:43 PM

  They’ve all gone. Downstairs probably. I wouldn’t know. Kaylie slipped out of the room about fifteen minutes ago, and now I’m back to being completely alone in my room.

  My room. So apparently I’ve even started calling it my room. I’m going to start calling this my house soon. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even start calling Jayce my family. If anything, I should start doing that now – I mean, if it’s going to happen anyway, why wait?

  I lie back on my bed, arms and legs outstretched, as though I’m making a snow-angel.

  Unfamiliar ceiling.

  The worst part is that it’s actually becoming a familiar one.

  I can't stop thinking about the fact that this is day three. According to Jayce's threats on the pay phone, if Father doesn’t kill Jayce’s mother today, Jayce will kill me.

  *****

  6:00 PM

  Five bodies jump simultaneously as Jory slams down the brakes once more to stop from ramming into another slow driver. This is the sixth time he’s had to stamp on the brakes after going way too fast. He’s a rubbish driver. And I mean a rubbish one. I’m starting to find myself shutting my eyes just to make this journey easier. If I can’t see him driving horribly, then maybe I won’t be able to feel it either?

  The six of us are Jayce and Mel on either side of me in the back with Tyra balancing on Mel’s lap and Kaylie up front with Nick.

  “Does no one else find it weird that a ghost could be humping you right now and you would never know? Oh, and another thing that gets me, right. Everyone knows pollen is basically plant sperm, yeah? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure that means hay fever has to be an STD. Now, I’ve never known anyone who voluntarily takes in pollen. So, I’ve concluded that we’re all being raped by trees. True story.”

  It’s been a long time since I’ve heard one of Jayce’s rambles. It strikes me that I’ve missed them a little.

  “I-I don’t really want to go to this party, Jayce,” Mel mumbles, maybe thinking the quieter she speaks, the less he will be offended. But judging by the irritated groan he gives, this plan doesn’t seem to be working. “I mean, like, we won’t know anyone there.”