The Sisterhood

by A. J. Grainger

  She glanced at Taid’s green VW Beetle. Her mum had promised to insure her on it as soon as she passed her test. Lil would rather be insured on her mum’s little Renault, but she knew Mella would kill her for such sacrilege (and Taid would turn in his grave). They had both loved this car. Mella said driving it was like being in a sixties movie, although why that was a good thing, Lil had never established. Mella was a terrible driver. Whenever they were in the car together, Lil closed her eyes and prayed to all the gods she could name that they wouldn’t die.

  “Take it, take it,” she could hear Mella say, as though right in her ear.

  “I don’t know how to drive it,” Lil said, as Mella blew a raspberry.

  Mella would have taken the car. It wouldn’t have bothered her that she had no license or that the insurance had lapsed. But Lil wasn’t Mella.

  She set her teeth and mounted the bike again, then pedaled hard up the drive and turned right onto the narrow road beyond. The house was halfway up a mountain, and it was downhill for two miles to the main road at the bottom. You went left for the kayaking club, which sat on the river, and right for Old Porthpridd, the nearest village, if you could call it one. It had a café, a newsagent’s, and a bike shop. “Is this it?” Mella had asked. Lil was not into shopping, not like Mella, but even she’d been disappointed. It had taken a while to get used to the fact that it was forty miles to Caerwen and the closest proper shops. “And two hundred miles to any decent ones,” Mella always said. They’d been here seven years, but Mella had never stopped missing London. “I’m getting out of here, Mouse,” she’d say. “The first chance I get. And I’m never ever, ever, ever coming back.” Lil hadn’t taken her seriously. Hadn’t considered how long “never ever, ever, ever” really was.

  With the wind slapping her cheeks raw and threatening to tear her from the bike, it was going to be a struggle to get anywhere today. Her body was already rigid with cold. After a while she realized her muscles were aching, and she forced a deep breath out of her lungs and drew her shoulders down away from her ears. The wind ripped into her again and her shoulders shot back up, tense and hunched. It was an effort to keep the bike upright.

  She only had to make it down to the river. Kiran would give her a lift back. He would have picked her up, too, if he hadn’t had to drop his little twin brothers off at their science club. But Lil wondered again why she was even bothering going. Mella had been the kayaker. Lil was just pretending. Before Mella went missing, Lil had mostly just hung out in the café at the kayaking place, waiting for her to finish up. Then after Mella left, Lil went there to pretend that Mella was out kayaking and would be back any second. It was stupid, but for whole seconds at a time Lil could convince herself that Mella was about to walk in like she used to, curly hair tamed in a long French plait down her back, unpeeling her wet suit. “Why, Mouse,” she’d say. “Fancy meeting you here! And, yes, I don’t mind if I do have a hot chocolate. Sure is nice of you to offer.”

  It was in the café that Lil had met Kiran, in May. She was finishing a hot chocolate, doing her usual pretense of waiting for Mella and bracing herself for the long cycle ride home, when a super-tall (taller even than her) guy walked in. And amazingly that wasn’t the first thing she noticed about him, because he seemed to have fallen into a pot of neon paint. His T-shirt was lime green and his trainers were tangerine orange. More amazing than that was he didn’t look ridiculous. Just bright and happy. And like he didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought of him. Lil liked that, so she smiled, brighter than she had in a long while, and he smiled back.

  “Hi,” he said with his Birmingham accent. “You here for the induction?”

  Lil had never been interested in kayaking, but there was something about the way this guy asked that made her want to try it. Not because he was cute, although he was: with his brown skin, deeper-than-deep-brown eyes, and caterpillar eyebrows that were a facial expression all on their own. He had stubble, too, that curved around his full lips.

  So she’d done the induction, much to Gavan’s surprise. He ran the kayak club with his partner, Jon, and had been on Lil about doing a course ever since Mella went missing. “It might do you some good. Get a bit of fresh air in your lungs.”

  Cai—Mella’s boyfriend and one of the instructors at the club—had been surprised too, and Lil had loved that, because she hated the thought of Cai knowing anything—anything—about her. She still wanted to gouge his internal organs out with a blunt instrument for what he’d done to Mella.

  The wind whipped around her again, bringing her back to the present and nearly knocking her over. She ducked her head against it, which meant she wasn’t looking where she was going. When she took the next bend, she didn’t see the girl lying motionless in the middle of the road until she was almost on top of her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Lil swerved sharply. The bike’s wheels skidded on the wet tarmac. She tried to brake but got no traction. She was heading for the wall, topped with barbed wire. Hitting that was going to hurt, so Lil did the only thing she could think of. She threw herself off, landing on the grassy shoulder with a bone-shaking jolt as her bike crunched into the wall. The impact took her breath away, but she hobbled to her feet as quickly as she could. The girl hadn’t moved, and something darker than water stained the tarmac around her. Lil took a steadying breath and then went over to her.

  Close up, the girl was a mess. Lil guessed she must be about fourteen, thirteen maybe. Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t moving. Her face was pale and bruised, blood coming from a cut to her head. And her feet—Oh my God, her feet! Above her thin pumps they were caked with mud, and her ankles were lacerated with cuts. There were scratches on her wrists, too, visible under the long sleeves of her white tunic. The wind whipped about her, making her long hair dance.

  The sight of her chilled Lil, but she fought back the anxiety and crouched down. “Hi,” she said. “Hello? Are you okay?” With shaking fingers she touched the girl’s shoulder. It was icy cold through the thin fabric of her dress. Lil shivered and nearly snatched her hand back. “Can you hear me?” she asked softly.

  There was no response, and Lil’s anxiety rose. Was she . . . was she dead? This can’t be happening. Lil thought she might faint. The world seemed far away suddenly, the faint sun filtering through the trees, creating patterns of light and dark on the wet tarmac. Even the wind seemed to quiet for a moment. Then, there was a noise behind her, and Lil snapped around to see a flock of birds rising up from the steep wooded bank. One cawed loudly, and the sound cut through to Lil. She blinked and her vision cleared. At the same time something seemed to switch on in her brain: A power cable finally connected to the main circuit board. What the hell was she doing? She needed to call 999 immediately. This girl needed help.

  Lil’s backpack lay where she’d dropped it on the side of the road, her phone inside. It took a moment to open it, and then she couldn’t find her phone. Where is it? Where is it? As she rifled through the bag—a book, chips, a sweater—she cast an anxious look at the girl, who still hadn’t moved.

  Her fingers closed around the rectangle of metal, but relief became horror when she tugged the phone free and saw the cracked screen. It must have gotten smashed during the fall. Nothing that Lil did could get it working again. Almost crying with frustration, she threw the phone back in her bag.

  What was she going to do now? They were in the middle of nowhere. No one drove on this road. There were only about two cars a day, and that included her mum’s. The nearest village was miles away. It would take Lil over an hour to walk there. And then what? There was no doctor’s office and certainly no hospital. And what would she do with the girl? She couldn’t just leave her here, lying in the middle of the road.

  Her panic sharpened, but then a thought cut through her mounting dread: first-aid training. Gavan didn’t let anyone put so much as a pinkie in the river before doing a full-on first-aid course. But could Lil remember it? Why hadn’t she paid more attention? Because i
t had been more fun to mess around with Kiran, and she’d never thought she’d have to use it. What if she did it wrong? Could you make someone worse?

  Lil gave herself a stern talking-to. What were her options? Stand about and have a nervous breakdown while a girl lay—Do not think “dying”—or try to help the best she could. Lil took what she hoped was a steadying breath and crossed back over to the girl.

  “Check for responsiveness by talking to the patient,” Gavan had said.

  “Hello,” Lil said, and amazingly her voice sounded calm. It gave her confidence. “Hello,” she said again. “My name’s Lil. I’m here to help you. Open your eyes if you can hear me.” That’s what Gavan had told them to do: “You want to get the patient responding to you. The smallest gesture to show they are conscious.” The patient. It sounded so cold and remote. Nothing like the reality of someone lying unconscious in front of you, covered in blood.

  Lil wished she’d not panicked so much at first. She could have done this already. A terrifying thought came to her. What if the girl had been alive, but had died because Lil hadn’t reacted quickly enough? The idea was too overwhelming and Lil pushed it aside as best she could.

  When the girl didn’t respond to her voice, Lil touched her shoulder again, more firmly this time, and shook it. Her skin was cold and wet, and her bones were tiny. It was like touching a baby bird. She didn’t react to Lil’s touch at all, so Lil tilted her head back as tenderly as she could, one hand on her forehead and two fingers under her pointed chin, to make sure her airway was clear. Her neck looked exposed like that, and it brought home to Lil even more how vulnerable she was, and how fragile. But there didn’t seem to be any obstruction in her throat, and she was breathing. Thank God.

  Lil’s movements were less flustered now. She was shocked at how she instinctively seemed to know what to do. She started to move the girl into the recovery position. She barely weighed anything; her arms were so skinny.

  Lil sat back on her heels, assessing what to do next. Rainwater seeped through her tracksuit bottoms. She took off her coat and draped it over the girl. The girl was wet through; her thin dress was no protection at all from the storm. Lil felt a lurch of compassion for her, a desire to help, no matter what.

  She’d have to go home and call the ambulance from there. Perhaps she could use her broken bike to create a barricade or an obstacle in the road, slowing down any vehicle that might come past. It wasn’t ideal, but Lil honestly didn’t know what else to do, and the chances of a car coming down this road were remote anyway. Despite the girl’s small size, Lil didn’t think she’d be able to carry her, and besides, you weren’t supposed to move someone, were you? Gavan had definitely said that could make a person worse. Or was it worse to leave her lying in the middle of the road? Perhaps Lil should drag her closer to the shoulder?

  No, Lil decided. She’d leave her here rather than risk causing more damage, although the thought of the girl being alone made Lil’s insides twist. But she could run pretty fast. She reckoned she could be home in less than five minutes. She was getting to her feet, still scared but more rational now that she had a plan, when the girl’s eyelids flickered open. Large dark-brown eyes, bloodshot with tiredness, stared up at her.

  In biology they’d watched a documentary of a lion chasing a zebra. At the moment that the lion brought it down with a giant paw, the camera zoomed in on the zebra’s face. Foaming at the mouth, lips drawn back in a silent scream, and eyes wide and terrified—exactly like this girl’s.

  Fear scoured Lil, and for a moment she was speechless. She pulled herself together. “H-hi,” she stammered, voice shaky, from fear or cold or both. “Hi! Are you okay? . . .” She trailed off. It was obvious this girl was anything but all right.

  The girl didn’t answer. Her gaze flitted from Lil’s face to the trees that clung to the steep slope on one side of the road, their thick roots spread out like spiderwebs. They were strung together tightly, so you couldn’t see between them. Rainwater gushed down the bank, making the mud run like a river. Lil couldn’t tell what the girl was looking at up on the ridge. It was almost impossible to make out anything, like someone had taken a huge eraser and rubbed everything out, leaving only smudges. And it was so quiet. Even the storm seemed to have stilled, and there was only the drip-drip of the rain off the leaves. It was as if the world were drawing a breath before . . . Before what?

  Calm down, Lil told herself. But there was a charge in the air, and Lil felt a sudden, desperate urge to get inside, where it was safe. Safe? Lil was caught off guard by that thought. Safe from what? She was less than a mile from her home. Nothing ever happened here, and yet she couldn’t shake the instinct that was building inside her, growing stronger every moment. Run, it said. Run now.

  “Are you okay?” Lil asked again, like a broken record, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. “What are you doing out here? What happened to you?”

  The girl didn’t answer. She had paled further, and her eyes were even wilder and darker. She looked ready to bolt, and Lil didn’t know what to do. “It’s okay,” Lil said, as softly as she could. “I’ll help you. What’s your name? I’m Lil. It’s okay. It’s okay,” Lil repeated, as if saying it enough times would make it true. “I live just up there. You can come back to my house and we can call someone. Someone who’ll help you.”

  “No, no. Call no one.” The girl shook her head, drawing back from Lil, her limbs scrunching up under her, like a small animal ready to crawl back into its hole. She looked even younger suddenly, no more than nine or ten.

  Lil felt panicky again. “We can’t stay out here. You’re hurt, and it’s raining.” Not safe, her brain screamed at her. Run. Run. Get away. “Come with me,” she said. “I’ll help you.”

  The girl shook her head even more vigorously.

  Then, without any warning, a shaft of sunlight broke through the thick clouds overhead, catching Lil full in the face, blinding her, and making the dark world glitter in an almost magical glow. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

  Lil blinked in the fresh gloom, and then her eyes widened in amazement at how the girl’s expression changed. The terror retreated from her features, and she even smiled. “You will help me,” she said quietly but with absolute assurance.

  “Yes . . . yeah,” Lil said, although she had no idea what had made this girl suddenly change her mind. She looked upward, as though the explanation might be there, but all she could see was the sky, heavy with dark rain clouds, hiding the brief sun.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Shivering and bent over against the wind and rain, Lil and the girl struggled back to the house. Lil tried to ask where she had come from and her name, but she just shook her head and wouldn’t answer, so Lil gave up and concentrated on getting them home. The girl was exhausted and obviously in pain. It was clearly taking her a lot of energy to put one foot in front of the other. She made it only a few steps on her own before needing to lean heavily on Lil. There’d be time for questions later.

  The rain was growing stronger, so Lil took her hoodie off as well and wrapped it around the girl’s shoulders, ignoring her protests. She still had Lil’s coat on. “You need them more than I do. You can go into shock when you’ve been injured.” Lil didn’t know if that was true, but it sounded convincing. She’d left her bike and backpack behind. She’d come back for them later.

  Lil’s unease and sense of being watched intensified on the journey back. The emptiness of the countryside pressed in on her with each step, and it was an enormous relief to reach the driveway to her house. She was glad to shut and lock the front door behind them. The familiarity of home settled around her like a hug.

  Lil led the girl into the living room and helped her onto the sofa, then ran to the kitchen to get her some water. The girl was trembling so hard—from cold or fear, it was hard to tell—that Lil had to help her hold the glass to her lips. She managed only a couple of sips. Lil set the glass on the coffee table and then grabbed a few of the sn
uggly blankets that always hung over the back of the sofa and tucked them around her.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  Lil gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She bent down to turn on the gas fire. Soon a warm glow filled the room, and Lil’s tension dissipated. Home. Safe.

  The girl, however, was still wound up tight as a coil. Her eyes darted about the room, not settling on anything for long. She jumped when Lil asked, “Are you all right here for a minute? Try to keep warm. I’m going to call an ambulance for you.”

  “No!” the girl cried, her voice snapping out like a whip. “No! No ambulance. No . . . no police. No one!”

  “But you’re hurt. Badly hurt. Your head’s still bleeding. There was this kid at my primary school, fell over in the playground, hit his head. Everyone thought he was fine, then the next day he was dead. . . .” Lil trailed off. She always talked too much when she was nervous, and there was something about the way this girl stared, like she was looking right down inside you. It made Lil uncomfortable.

  “You can’t tell anyone I’m here,” the girl said. “Please. Please!”

  “But—”

  “Please!” Her voice cracked, emotion bursting out like a firework.

  It scared Lil. She remembered the hunted look in the girl’s eyes earlier. “I think you need help. Proper help—” she began.

  The girl cut her off. “If you call someone, I’ll leave.” She pushed the blankets off and put one shaky foot on the floor. Her face blanched as she tried to stand. Lil leaped to steady her. The girl flinched as Lil caught her arm.

  “Okay,” Lil said. “I won’t call anyone. I promise. Just please don’t go. You’re not well enough. Stay here and I’ll try to help you.” She couldn’t risk this girl running off, not in this weather and not with her injuries. “Just . . . just sit down. Rest. I’ll get some bandages for your head. Does it hurt? We’ve probably got acetaminophen.” Bandages and acetaminophen didn’t feel like enough. The girl could barely stand. Her hair was a mess of blood and mud. She most likely had a concussion.