The Magpie Society One for Sorrow

by Amy McCulloch

  ‘And you won’t ever come back.’

  He stares at Ivy, his eyes wide but weary. ‘I won’t ever come back.’ He takes one final look at us both, and then strides out of the room.

  ‘Let that be the end of it then,’ Ivy says.

  ‘Ivy … are you sure about this?’ I ask. ‘Don’t you think we should still go to the authorities?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  And then she does the last thing I expect. She tosses the photo into the flames. It immediately catches, the image of Mr Willis and Lola glowing orange, curling in on itself and finally disintegrating into ash.

  46

  Ivy

  Audrey tries to grab the photo from the fireplace. ‘What are you doing?!’ she shouts.

  But I pull her back, not wanting her to rescue it. I feel oddly calm now. ‘Don’t you see?’ I say to her. ‘He didn’t do anything that night. All that photo could do now is damage his reputation. This way, he can get a fresh start somewhere else, and no one else gets hurt.’ I look up at her, meeting her confused stare. ‘That’s all I want. For no one else to get hurt.’

  She bites her bottom lip. Then breathes out in one long exhale. ‘But what about the diary?’

  ‘Lola’s gone. We can’t ask her to clarify her words. We don’t know for certain that she’s referring to Mr Willis, so the police won’t care. And you saw the photographs of him and his fiancée in Paris, the date stamp and everything. He couldn’t have been responsible for her death.’

  ‘He’s still a predator.’

  ‘And he’s gone now.’

  ‘Ivy …’

  ‘Drop it, Audrey. Please.’

  My phone buzzes in my pocket and I look down to see that Clover has finally replied to my earlier message. I breathe out sharply. She doesn’t know that we know the truth about her podcast yet. I spin my phone round to show Audrey.

  I’m in the Tower Wing.

  Room 3A x

  ‘Ready for another confrontation? One down, one to go.’

  Audrey nods, and we leave the staffroom, following the meandering corridors to the Tower Wing. Thanks to Teddy, our key cards grant us full access and we race up the stairs. As we pass the art room, I peer inside. It’s an absolutely huge circular space, with a double-height ceiling and windows to match. Artwork from students covers the walls, some of it going back years. I spot Mr Yarrow’s bald head washing brushes at the sink, but I don’t want him to see us – so we carry on, climbing higher and higher, until we reach room 3A. A sliver of warm light filters out from beneath the door. As we approach, we can faintly hear Clover’s voice.

  ‘She’s recording now?’ Audrey whispers outside the door.

  I feel my fists clench and I take a deep breath to try and control my rising anger. ‘That’s a wrap! Or, should I say, that’s another bit of cash in your back pocket?’ I say as we barge in.

  Clover almost jumps out of her chair, her eyes wide with alarm, her arms covering her laptop screen. But when she sees that it’s us, and my words register, she chuckles and slowly removes her beaten-up pair of headphones.

  ‘So you found out about Patrick then? I won’t ask how you seem to have got hold of that private information, Ivy.’ She rolls her eyes. How come this girl acts like she’s decades older than fifteen, with absolutely no fear whatsoever? It almost completely throws me off.

  ‘Clover, what the hell are you doing?’ I sit down next to her and Audrey leans on the closed door behind her. I feel it’s best to give her the chance to admit all this herself.

  ‘Guys, I’m not sure what kind of mission you’re on, or why you think me being paid is even relevant when it comes to Lola’s murder, but –’

  ‘Are you kidding? Clover, your credibility as a journalist is completely destroyed by the fact that Patrick is paying you. How can you sit there, broadcasting stuff you made up about a girl who’s dead, pointing the finger at innocent people in the way that you are? Haven’t people suffered enough?’

  She shakes her head. ‘I’m not doing this just to get paid – honestly, Patrick’s money has been helpful to get this off the ground, but I would’ve done it with or without him. Everything I’m talking about and discussing is true. I did get an anonymous tip. I do think something bad is going on at this school. Plus, I’m not directly naming names, so no “innocent people” are suffering.’

  Clover starts fiddling with her laptop and dragging audio files into a timeline. ‘I just want justice, Ivy. I want to find out the truth. That’s it.’ She looks me right in the eyes, so piercing and meaningful I actually feel slightly uncomfortable. ‘And that means getting this last podcast out before the Samhain party. So I’m a bit up against it, if you don’t mind …’

  Audrey and I stare at her, stony-faced. But Audrey is the first to soften. She doesn’t have the layers of betrayal of a long friendship that I feel like I’m having to sift through right now. ‘So tell us then: who do you think “murdered” Lola? If you’re saying you aren’t making this up, what’s left to talk about? Why not just reveal the person and get the cops involved?’

  ‘I can’t do that just yet. There’s still a few pieces of evidence I needed to gather in order for the police to believe me beyond any reasonable doubt.’

  ‘So … you don’t know who it is,’ Audrey says.

  ‘No, I do! But don’t you get it?’ Clover’s eyes are shining now. ‘The podcast has put pressure on this person. They know that I’m this close to having incontrovertible proof. They’ve been careful, oh so very careful … but pressure means even clever people make mistakes. And trust me, this person is not only clever and careful, but dangerous too. They killed Lola on purpose and they could easily murder again.’ She closes her laptop and stands up, unplugging it from the wall.

  ‘Well, who? What’s your evidence? Maybe we can help – apply even more pressure on your behalf!’ Audrey asks.

  ‘I don’t have to tell you!’

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous, Clover,’ I snap, my patience thread-thin. ‘Tell us, and we’ll tell you what we’ve found that we think completely contradicts your “narrative”.’

  ‘Air quotes aren’t cute, Ivy. I’m not interested in what you’ve found. My “narrative” is pretty much solid at this point.’

  ‘Listen,’ I say, injecting more calm into my voice, ‘the police always said that the only thing that made the coroner rule “death by misadventure” instead of “by suicide” is that they never found a note – right?’

  ‘Right,’ she says, her arms crossed.

  ‘Well, we found a whole diary’s worth of notes. Lola was in a really dark place. She was heartbroken. She was feeling reckless. The change in personality, the abrupt change in hairstyle – all of it,’ I say.

  ‘It’s all in here,’ Audrey says, taking the diary from her bag. ‘It’s pretty scary stuff.’

  She passes it to Clover, who starts flicking through. Then she puts it down. ‘Newsflash, Audrey, I’m not sure about the school you were at previously, but loads of girls here at Illumen write depressing-as-fuck poems. It doesn’t mean she killed herself. This proves nothing!’

  ‘Fine. I was going to wait to see if you had some actual evidence, but it’s clear you’ve got nothing.’ I take a deep breath. ‘It’s Mr Willis. He’s your main suspect, isn’t he?’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ Clover’s eyes dart between us, suddenly sharp.

  ‘Because we know he’s the older man you reference,’ Audrey replies.

  ‘You do? She names him in the diary?’ Now Clover looks excited. She flicks through the pages again. ‘Do you know that he was supposed to meet Lola that night?’

  ‘We do know that. But she doesn’t name him.’

  ‘So you see? I have to continue the podcast. I’m so close to getting a confession out of him …’

  I shake my head. ‘No, Clover. He has a solid alibi. We’ve seen it.’

  ‘You spoke to him?’

  ‘We did,’ says Audrey. ‘We saw photographs and time stamps o
f him in Paris on the night Lola died. He said Lola was obsessed with him. But regardless of whether that was true or not … he’s left the school. He’s gone. He’s never coming back.’

  ‘Never,’ I say with emphasis.

  ‘So that’s it?’ Clover blinks several times, then her shoulders slump.

  I nod. ‘He’s not going to teach again. Not here, not anywhere.’

  ‘But wait, he wasn’t my only suspect! Just because he has an alibi …’ Clover drifts off mid-sentence. ‘I’ve just been immersed in this for so long, I can’t believe it.’ She buries her face in her hands.

  I place my hand on her back. Despite everything, she’s still my fledgling, my mentee and, most importantly, my friend. ‘At least you don’t have to worry about anything else happening at the school. No one else has to get hurt, Clover. It’s over.’

  47

  Audrey

  The three of us are quiet as we walk back to Clover’s room. ‘Will we see you at the party?’ Ivy asks her.

  Clover shakes her head. ‘No … I think I’m just going to stay here and sleep. I feel shattered.’ She looks it too, her eyes slightly glazed. Ivy fetches her a cup of tea from their little communal kitchen and then we leave her to rest, returning to our building.

  ‘Hey, you did the right thing.’ I touch Ivy’s arm, pulling her to a stop just before we step into Helios House, and back into the chaos of everyone getting ready for the party.

  ‘Do you think?’ Ivy’s voice is barely above a whisper.

  ‘Yeah. That creep Mr Willis is gone from the school. And Clover’s gonna stop with the podcast. Lola can finally rest peacefully.’

  As if it calls to us both, we turn and look up at Lola’s portrait. A shiver crawls down my spine. Because, when I look at her face, I’m not seeing Lola any more.

  I see Alicia.

  ‘I wish I could’ve done more for you too,’ I whisper.

  ‘What did you say?’ Ivy asks as we make our way back up to our room. I feel like I’m strung out on adrenaline.

  I shrug. ‘Nothing. I guess I just can’t believe it’s over.’ I go quiet, not really speaking much as we return to our room.

  Ivy looks at me with concern. ‘I don’t want to push … but I’m used to being the quiet one. You know you can talk to me.’

  ‘It’s all just become a bit much. All this focus on murder and death … I can’t handle it.’ I take a deep breath outside of our door. ‘I never told you what happened back home, did I?’

  ‘No.’ She says it quietly, and doesn’t look directly at me. I know she must be curious – I would be – but I appreciate that she’s trying not to spook me back into silence. I haven’t opened up to anyone about this. It’s the last thing sticking between us.

  We go into our room. I sit down on my bed and Ivy sits on hers. I hug my knees into my chest.

  ‘I used to enjoy parties too.’ I pause. ‘Well, I used to enjoy throwing them. Or maybe I felt obligated to, because I was the one with the biggest house and the most money. Anyway, I was having kind of a smallish gathering. Just my “closest” friends, my boyfriend at the time and some of his friends. It wasn’t meant to be a big deal. We had lots of alcohol and stuff, but nothing harder. It was just supposed to be chilled.

  ‘I was fighting with Brendan at the time. He was being an ass about something – I can’t remember what. But we were so busy yelling at each other that we didn’t hear the yelling that was happening outside.’ My voice drops as I disappear into the memory. No matter how hard I squeeze my eyes shut, no matter how hard I wish it, nothing will change how I acted that night – or what happened. There’s a bitter taste in the back of my throat. ‘You know, I kinda wish we had some sort of Magpie Society to stop the shit that was happening at my school.’

  ‘So there was yelling going on outside your house?’ Ivy gently prompts.

  ‘Yeah. The house is right on the beach – there’s a wrap-around porch that literally goes right down to the dunes. It turned out, while Brendan and I were upstairs, another group of kids from our school had walked past the house along the beach.’ I take a deep breath. ‘A bunch of kids that included Alicia.’

  ‘Who was Alicia?’

  ‘Well … if we were the stereotypical “popular” kids, then she was a nerd. I know it’s so cheesy to define it like that, but honestly … in this case, it was kinda true.

  ‘The other girls in her group made the sensible decision. They ran away when my friends started calling out and jeering at them. But, for whatever reason, Alicia chose that moment to stand up to us. I wish she’d just gone with her friends, but …’ I bite my lip. ‘No, sorry. Scratch that. I’m not gonna put any of this on her. She had the right to be on that beach too.’

  Somehow, in the time that I’ve been talking, Ivy has moved from her bed to mine, and is sitting next to me. ‘My … friends invited her up on to the porch. Made her feel welcome. They plied her with drink, made her feel like part of the cool crowd for a while. But of course it was all just in the name of joking around. They were bullies.’

  ‘Sounds awful.’

  I look up at Ivy, but I’m barely able to see through the blur of tears. I let a few of them fall, then collect myself. I have to honour Alicia by telling the whole story. All of it. Without missing anything out. ‘So then they all decided to get into the hot tub.’ I say the next part in a rush, as if telling it quicker makes it sound less terrible. I just have to get it out. ‘They were fooling around. Playing games. Completely wasted.

  ‘Then it all went wrong. I heard screams – even I could hear them over our fight. By the time Brendan and I got downstairs again … Ivy, she was dead. She’d drowned in the hot tub.’

  ‘Holy shit!’

  ‘Lydia was panicking, crying, begging me to call 911,’ I go on. ‘I finally got the story out of her when she’d stopped having hysterics. One of the guys, Tyler … she said … she said he held Alicia’s head down in the water. That he’d tried to get her to give him … well, you know. He said it was a joke gone wrong. A joke he’s in prison for now. His trial is scheduled for a few weeks’ time. He’s probably gonna go away for life.’

  ‘Too fucking right,’ Ivy says, but then she snaps her mouth shut as realization dawns on her face. ‘That’s why you came here.’

  ‘Yeah. I couldn’t stand to be there any more. In that house. I was having panic attacks at home, at that school. With those people. The police didn’t need my testimony or anything like that. They had my statement. They had eyewitnesses in all my friends who were in the hot tub. My parents said I didn’t have to go through the trial. I don’t think that I could have. They were moving to England anyway, so I came with them.’

  ‘Oh, Audrey. To me it seemed as if you had the perfect life. You are kind of intimidating with all … this.’ She gestures at my face and hair, and it makes me laugh, despite everything. ‘But I guess you never know what people are going through. Just like with Lola. I’m so sorry. That’s really terrible. No wonder you wanted to get away.’

  ‘You’re right. This is why I came here. For a fresh start. I admit, I was pretty afraid of being here when it seemed like your school was just as focused on the death of a student as mine was. I felt like I was cursed. But instead I found the best friend I could possibly ask for.’ I reach out and take Ivy’s hand.

  ‘Me too.’ She squeezes my fingers back. ‘Audrey … it wasn’t your fault, you know – Alicia? You weren’t even there.’

  ‘I know. But she died in my house. I just can’t help but think there was more I could have done. Not even necessarily that night. It wasn’t like the bullying had started that evening. I was such a stupid, selfish bitch. At any point, I could have just stood up against what I knew was wrong.’

  ‘Like you did with Clover – well, both for Clover and against her.’

  ‘Exactly. It’s like I’ve become my own version of the Magpie Society. I can’t stand by any more. Not now my eyes are truly open to the consequences.’

  �
�Me neither.’

  We sit in silence for a few seconds. Then Ivy slaps her hand down on top of mine, and grips my fingers tightly. ‘My God, the school therapist is going to make a fortune from us!’ She laughs, and I find myself chuckling along too. Nothing like a dark joke to break the tension.

  ‘Well, all we can do is keep trying to do better. And we also have to give ourselves permission to live our own lives. So let’s do it, right? We’ve got rid of Mr Willis; we’ve stopped Clover. It’s late. Tomorrow we’ll give the diary and the letter to the police. But for now? Now, we’ve got a party to prepare for.’

  48

  Audrey

  ‘So, what are you going to wear to the Samhain ball?’ Ivy asks me.

  ‘I have a few options,’ I reply. Ivy gasps over each one as I bring it out. My favourite is black and lacy, with a scoop neck, kind of a fancy version of a witch’s dress. A very fashionable witch’s dress, of course. There’s also one in a bias-cut navy silk, and another in luxurious bronzes and golds that should make me look like an autumn princess. This is my first chance to properly dress up.

  ‘These are all so beautiful,’ says Ivy. I grin. She’s like a kid in a candy store.

  ‘What about you? What are you gonna wear?’

  ‘Oh, I’m not great with fashion really. But I found a black dress in a charity shop last week that will work well enough.’

  ‘Show me? I love a good thrift find. I’ve got some killer vintage pieces back home that I picked up for, like, no money. You get a surprisingly good selection down in Savannah, some really cool old stuff, but the best is if I get up to New York. It’s probably one of the few times that Mom and I actually bond …’

  As I talk, Ivy heads over to her dresser, rifling through the bottom drawer. I feel a tiny twinge of alarm. What’s she doing?

  ‘Ah, here it is,’ she says, shaking out a crumpled black dress with ruffles down one edge. For someone who shows such care and attention in most aspects of her life, I can hardly believe that she takes so little interest in her clothes.