‘Yes, or else DarkM00n was with her when she was missing. No one else could have known about the song, and the title? And the tattoos. And I might be going crazy but I think I can see a pattern here. I think that at some point after Nai ran away she was . . . abducted, trapped, I dunno. Kept somewhere she realised she didn’t want to be, somewhere she couldn’t just leave, somewhere she couldn’t call for help.’
‘Mate, that’s a big leap.’
‘I know, but the song, the words . . . she sounds like she’s crying.’
‘If you listen long enough you can imagine anything.’ Leo is not convinced. ‘She ran away with a bloke, she didn’t want to be found and she made up a new avatar, that’s what this is. Maybe that went wrong, maybe she got drunk and fell in the river, maybe she . . . maybe she jumped. Either way, much more likely than your story. I mean, if she had the internet, why wouldn’t she just tell us to come and get her?’
‘Because maybe whoever was keeping her was watching her too, and she was afraid of getting caught,’ I suggest. ‘It’s easy enough to spy on someone else’s internet history. Mum checks up on Gracie’s iPad; it’s linked to her phone so she can use her apps and not get up to anything she shouldn’t. And Dad put an app on it that tracks every keystroke. If someone was watching Nai, to make sure she didn’t try and escape or ask for help, well then of course she’d be trying to get us to notice her without getting caught.’
I struggle to find a way to translate my hunch into something concrete. ‘If she didn’t want to be found, why would she clone her old playlists? Why would she make sure that if someone looked they would find a link between Naomi and DarkM00n. When you think about it that way, do I seem so crazy?’
‘I don’t know . . .’ Leo is wavering.
Looking over his shoulder, I watch a butterfly find its way in and out of the weeds, never settling for more than a second, and that’s how my head feels, like the answer is there, but I just can’t settle on it.
And then something. Something catches at my thoughts.
‘Do you remember Carly Shields?’ I ask him. ‘The girl they made this garden for?’ Leo looks over his shoulder.
‘Yeah, I’m not likely to forget the girl that threw herself under a bus. She was in my brother’s year, they even went out for a bit. He was different when he was with her. What’s Carly Shields got to do with anything?’
‘What if . . .’ I take out my phone and look at the school website. Every year for the last few years the leavers make a video, lip syncing to a song and post it on YouTube and the school website. I go back three years, then four and there she is.
‘Oh my God, it’s her,’ I say, watching a group of girls strutting down the corridor syncing to Beyoncé. Her hair is different, dark and short, she’s wearing glasses, and there are no tattoos on her bare arms, but it’s her, I’m sure it is.
‘Carly?’ Leo squints at the picture. ‘That ain’t Carly.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘It’s Danni Heaven.’
‘Who?’ Leo looks at me.
‘The girl I met in Camden, she had a tattoo a bit like Nai’s and when I mentioned it she freaked the hell out. Leo, she used to go to this school. And Carly Shields was a bright kid, school star, swimming champ and pro-level harpist. Everything was going right for her, and then she walks out in front of a bus, why? Why would she do something so out of character?’
‘Nah.’ Leo shakes his head. ‘You’re adding two and two and making fifty-seven. Running away wasn’t out of Nai’s character.’
‘Not before, but since the band it was.’
‘Yeah, maybe. Maybe I am wrong, but these three girls went to the same school. One of them is dead, and two have the same kind of tattoo. There’s something there Leo, I know it.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Ashira appears out of nowhere.
‘Why do you care?’ Leo snaps, before he catches my look. ‘Look, I’m sorry all right? Red is chatting shit again.’
‘You mentioned Carly Shields,’ Ashira says. ‘The girl that threw herself under a bus. What’s that got to do with Naomi?’
Was she standing around the corner listening to us? That girl is intense. I kind of like it.
‘It’s nothing. I was just thinking about Carly, and thinking . . . what if there was someone she’d been involved with who’d pushed her into what she did?’
‘Like a serial killer?’ Ash asks me, deadly serious.
‘No, I mean there’s something else going on here. Something big and . . . invisible.’
‘Like the Illuminati?’
‘The what?’ I blink at her. ‘What did you find out about DarkM00n?’
‘Nothing. Well, I found out her account is a sub-account linked to another email, but that’s locked up real tight. I can’t get to it. But it is definitely Naomi singing. Definitely.’
Her eyes drop to her feet, and it’s like we all feel it at the same time. This is real, not a game, not a movie. It’s real. Fuck.
‘Danni Heaven went to Thames Comprehensive too.’
‘Who the fuck is Danni Heaven?’ Ash asks me.
‘A girl I met. I thought it was nothing, my head playing tricks, but she had a similar tattoo to Nai’s. We should tell the police,’ I say.
‘Fuck that,’ Leo adds helpfully. ‘You two, you’ve tied yourself up in coincidences. Say this to anyone else, and you’ll sound like nutters. Let it go, concentrate on getting Nai better, yeah. And the gig.’
I look at Ash and she gives me the slightest shake of her head.
‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘Yeah, maybe, you’re right. Maybe it is all in my head.’
‘Will you come to the hospital tonight?’ Ash looks at us both. ‘Please.’
‘Yeah, sure we’ll be there,’ I speak for me and Leo without thinking.
‘Thanks. Um, Red?’ She walks away a few steps, and Leo rolls his eyes. Shrugging, I follow her and stand there as she whispers in my ear. ‘Carly Shields. Danni Heaven. I’ll see what I can find out about them. I believe you. See you.’
I watch her walking away and wonder if having the nuttiest girl in London believing in me is a good thing or not.
‘I’m not sure if I can come tonight,’ Leo comes up behind me, ‘Aaron wants me around.’
‘Leo, don’t do what he wants you to do. Don’t fuck up your own life for him.’
‘He’s my blood bro,’ Leo says, fierce.
‘Fine,’ I say suddenly tired. ‘It’s your life, what’s left of it.’
‘Fuck you,’ he says.
I give him the finger as I head back inside, calling over my shoulder, ‘Hey, will you ask Aaron about Carly Shields?’
‘No,’ Leo says. ‘He liked her, he’s never got over that. I’m not going there. If you want to do this whole conspiracy theory thing, do it yourself.’
He’s right, it is a crazy conspiracy theory, it doesn’t make any sense when you say it out loud. And yet . . . I can’t let it go and pretend that everything is normal, everything is OK. Nothing is OK.
As I go back into class I realise I haven’t seen Rose all day again.
And man, I really miss her.
Kasha i
Today 15.36
Hey Kasha seen Rose today?
Read 15.37
Today 15.37
Nope.
Today 15.38
Anyone know wotsup with her?
Read 15.38
Today 15.39
Naaaah, no one seen her
Today 15.40
Well, if you hear anything, give us a shout K?
Delivered
20
As the lift doors slide open, and the sharp-edged scent of the ward hits me, I come face to face with Max and Jackie, and they are both crying.
‘What happened?’ I ask. ‘She isn’t . . . is she?’
‘No,’ Jackie tries to smile, but sobs instead, ‘No, darling. It’s just she isn’t improving as fast as they’d like her to. It’s not good for her to stay under like this for so long and . . . it’s just s
o much to take in. I’m sorry, don’t you worry. It’s all going to be OK, I promise you.’
She cries again, and hugs me, and I stand there for a long time breathing her in.
‘Ash won’t come home, she doesn’t want to leave her side. Will you keep an eye on her for me?’
‘Sure I will,’ I say. I’d say anything to make her feel better, but that’s an easy promise to keep.
She kisses my forehead, and instead of pulling away I lean into it for a moment. A mum hugging you, I miss it.
Stepping aside, I give them my best attempt at a reassuring smile as they get into the lift. Ashira is standing outside Nai’s room, her head pressed against the window.
‘Hey.’ I stand next to her.
‘Hey,’ she says.
We stand there, side by side, looking into the room at this beautiful vivid girl we know so well, trapped in suspended animation, and I can’t think of a single thing I can I say that’s going to help. So I do something instead, something that somehow feels right. Reaching out, I take her hand and hold it. Ashira doesn’t move, she doesn’t say anything. All she does is squeeze my fingers briefly.
She takes a deep breath and lets go of my hand and turns to me.
‘Right, so Carly Shields didn’t have a tattoo, at least not the day before she died which is as close as I can get. I mean I could get into her autopsy report if I really wanted to, but that feels a bit wrong.’
‘Yeah, a bit. But how did you find out the other stuff?’ I ask her.
‘School newspaper archive. She’d been in a swimming meet the day before she died and won it. And played harp at the school concert that evening. I mean I suppose that she could have had a tattoo somewhere we couldn’t see in a swimsuit, but if both Naomi’s and Danni’s are on their wrists . . . Do you think we could try and meet Danni and ask her more?’
She hands me a printout of an old local newspaper clipping, and I catch my breath. I’m looking at a photo of my dad, in his role as school governor, putting a medal around Carly’s neck as she stands there in her swimsuit. It’s not a good photo, it’s a bit grainy and he’s got more hair. But it is definitely my dad. I stare at him with that dead girl, and something creeps down the back of my neck. It’s one fuck of a coincidence.
‘I don’t think she’d want to talk somehow,’ I say slowly. I don’t tell Ash that it’s my dad in the photo because seeing him there feels something like a secret I’m not ready to tell yet. ‘But I’ll try. I’ll request to follow her on Instagram and send her a message.’
‘OK. Will you go in and sit with Nai for a while?’ Ashira’s voice is flat, she’s run out of places to look for her sister, even though her sister is right there in front of us. ‘I’m going to get a Coke, want one?’
I nod, and steel myself before opening the door.
Every time I see Nai, she looks a little better. There’s still a patch in place over one eye, but the skin around it looks less swollen and full of blood. If I squint and try and filter out the tubes and dressings, it’s almost like she is sleeping.
‘I heard your song,’ I tell her. ‘It’s really good, Nai, your version is much better than mine. I wish I knew when you recorded it, and when you set up this weird account and why. Can’t you just wake up, and tell us all what happened to you? How about that? How about you just wake up and tell us everything and then we can get back to normal. Get back to how things were. Since you left, it feels like everything is falling apart a little bit. Leo’s getting all caught up with Aaron again, and Rose . . . Rose is just, I don’t even know. She’s somewhere else. If you wake up now you can play with us in the concert next week, it is on your birthday after all. Come on, Nai, just wake up and talk to me.’
The machines keep whirring and beeping and she keeps breathing and everything stays exactly the same, because of course they fucking do. She’s sedated. I pick up her hand and I’m glad to see the bruises around her wrist have faded at least, unlike the tattoo. Lifting her arm higher I move so I can see it properly. It’s strangely beautiful, with so much detail it would have taken hours and hours of sitting, a lot of pain for a girl who didn’t like tattoos. Maybe I will take a photo of it to the tattoo shop, like Ash suggested. It can’t hurt. Taking my phone out I take a couple of snaps, but every time I try, my shadow, cast by the harsh strip lights in the ceiling, falls across it, blotting out all the detail. Flipping the camera into selfie mode I gently hold her wrist up and take a snap, sitting out of the way of the light.
Fucking hell. It’s as plain as day, and totally obvious. Suddenly I see it.
‘What?’ Ash sees the look on my face when she comes in.
‘Here, look.’ I pass her my phone and she looks at the image.
‘What do you see, Ash?’
‘Oh my God . . .’ Ash stares at it, and then at me. ‘I see numbers, loads of them. Numbers and letters, dashes and dots all layered one on top of the other, but they are there. I think this might be code, Red. I mean it could be, it could be almost anything . . . and one of the things it could be is code.’ She looks at me. ‘I’ve got photos of the tattoo on my phone, so I’ll just reverse them and . . . Red, this is massive.’
‘Do you really think it could be?’
‘I need to go home,’ she says. ‘If this is code then I can start trying to find a way to decipher it, this could be the answer to what happened to her.’
Her black eyes are bright and full of heat, like she has a fever.
‘Ash, just wait a moment. There must be, I don’t know, a hundred different characters in that tattoo, maybe more. It could all just be random,’ I say. ‘A private joke. Even if it was code, there are a billion different combinations of everything that’s in there, it’d be impossible to make sense of them.’
‘Well, I’ve got to try,’ Ash dismisses me and starts to leave but I follow her to the lift, standing in front of the call button. The look she gives me is truly terrifying. Ash is not a girl who likes to be told what to do.
‘Ash, I’m worried about you,’ I say, and for some reason that surprises her, diminishing the fire in her eyes a little bit.
‘You are?’
‘I’m worried that you . . . me, we’re going a little bit mad. Trying to find clues like Shaggy and Scooby and really there’s nothing going on at all.
‘Am I Shaggy or Scooby in this scenario? Because I’ve always seen myself as more of a Velma.’
I smile, I like the way she can be so funny, even when she’s being so serious.
‘Either way, I don’t want you to go home and lock yourself in your room, and drive yourself mad trying to make sense of a bunch of stuff that’s senseless. I know right now it seems impossible, it is impossible, but Nai will wake up, and when she does, you’ll need to have a life too.’
‘Maybe,’ Ash agrees. ‘And thank you, for worrying about me . . . that’s nice. But I have to do this. I don’t think that the numbers are random. I think there has to be a pattern, there has to be, because if no one can read it, what’s the point of it, the point of all that careful design. It means something to someone. I can run it through some software I have at home, handy for cracking passwords. Will you stay with her?’
‘Maybe I could help you?’ I offer.
‘Seriously doubt it,’ she says, shoving me out of the way as she pushes past into the lift.
When she’s gone, I feel weird. And I’m not sure if it’s a good weird or a bad weird, so it’s probably best not to think about it at all.
I look at my friend, oblivious to it all.
‘Well,’ I say. ‘I asked you to talk . . . and you did.’
21
It’s late when I leave the hospital, and I keep waiting to hear from Ash, though I guess whatever it is she is doing is going to take a long time. It’s hard not to think of her, lost behind that veil of dark hair, chasing meaning, and I feel kind of guilty. It’s me that sees all these connections, me that’s feeding her need to discover a truth that may not be there. Me that looks at an old ph
oto of my dad in a newspaper and wonders if he is involved. And every secret fear I have seems so possible.
And then I’m walking home, and the city looks like it always does, the other people on the street walking past me like I don’t exist, like they always do, and that spider web of tangled thoughts in my head seems like a bad dream that’s banished by daylight. I stop for a moment on the bridge, and breathe in the heat and exhaust of the traffic, as the lights of the cranes along the Thames shine in the dark looking like new planets just arrived in our solar system.
It’s time to get a grip, Red, for your sake and Ash’s. For Nai, and even Rose who seems to have checked out, without anyone making sure that she’s OK doing whatever it is she is doing, with whoever it is. The trouble with Rose is that she is so much more fragile than she looks, and sometimes, just sometimes, I think she actively wants to get broken.
Are you OK?
Taking my phone out I send her a message and wait, but the minutes go by and there’s no sign of a reply. At least she knows I’m thinking about her, that’s something. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure I find her, I’ll make sure she’s all right, because she needs to know that whatever happens, whatever she does or says, I’ll always be there for her.
You can’t help it, when you are as in love with someone as much as I am with her.
When I open the front door I see Mum sitting at the table. I can tell right away that she has been crying. I stand for a moment in the hallway, just hanging there with no idea what to do.
She sees me, and smiles. ‘Fancy a cup of tea?’
‘Er, yeah, thanks,’ I say, even though it’s warm and I’m thirsty for something like the bottle of Coke I know is in the fridge. I take a seat at the table, dropping my bag at my feet. ‘What is this about?’
Mum puts a mug in front of me and sits down.
‘Where’s Gracie?’ I ask.
‘At her friend’s for tea,’ Mum says, resting her hands on the table. I notice for the first time they are raw, and dry. White pieces of skin flake and peel off her fingers and the backs of her hands. Her fingernails are bitten down until they are ragged and red. Mum’s hands make me feel sorry for her.
Mirror, Mirror Page 15
