Kiss Her Goodbye: The most addictive thriller you'll read this year

by Susan Gee

  ‘That’s awful,’ Mum replies.

  ‘I should tell them,’ he says. ‘I was supposed to go in anyway.’

  I look him over. ‘Didn’t you?’

  Mum shouts back as she walks out to the kitchen, ‘You’re wasting their time. You don’t even know if it was her.’

  I don’t like the idea of him going to the police station. I don’t want him saying things about me to them.

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘If you want,’ he replies.

  Mum comes back, with a glass of orange juice in a thick-ridged glass, while Mike walks up and down the room.

  ‘Got any cigarettes, Sandra?’ he says as he looks under the pile of papers on the sideboard. ‘I’ll go this week. Can’t believe it’s happened again.’

  ‘I hope they don’t think you did it,’ I say, with wide eyes.

  ‘Stop winding him up.’ Mum frowns. ‘And don’t go telling any more of your stories. Your dad always said you lied for fun.’

  ‘Sandra.’ Mike frowns.

  ‘Well, he did. It’s true.’

  ‘Just leave her,’ he says.

  ‘And you need to be careful, Hayley,’ she says, ignoring him. ‘I don’t want you walking about on your own at night any more either.’

  Mike nods.

  ‘Just ring Mike if you need a lift anywhere,’ Mum tells me, as though she cares. She doesn’t mean it. She’s never worried and as she sips her juice I wonder how long before the truth comes out. She thinks she wants to hear it, but she doesn’t.

  ‘Yes, ring me,’ he says.

  Mum nods at John Kettley on the television, ‘Storm’s coming,’ she says as she throws Mike a packet of cigarettes. He catches it in one hand and walks towards the back door. I didn’t know he smoked so much. It’s as if he’s changed too and I feel as if I don’t know anybody any more.

  35

  Hayley Reynolds

  The next day, the storm does come. As the wind builds, the branches of the trees behind the house creak and my mind turns to the policewoman. She was at college again the other day; I saw her going into Dr Tibbs’ office, but she didn’t see me. A part of me wants to tell her the truth just to see her face, but I know that I won’t. At college, all the talk is about Mr Phillips. He’s been off sick all week and someone said that the police had him in for questioning. Everyone knows what he’s like and they must know that he was seeing Maxine by now. I just hope they decide that he did it. He’s a rubbish teacher anyway.

  I’m worried that someone saw me with Maxine though. It crosses my mind that Mike was there and he’s going to tell them at the police station. I should have met her somewhere else, but it’s too late now.

  I reach underneath the bed and pull out the shoebox. Inside are the two curls of Kirsten and Maxine’s hair: one black and one blonde. I pick up Kirsten’s and rub it across my cheek and over my lips. The feel of her golden hair against my mouth makes me throb inside and I hold it up for the light to shine through. It’s beautiful. Every strand is slightly different and I could mess with it for hours, but I know that it can’t stay in my room any more. If the policewoman comes back again, she’ll go through everything and the thought of her touching my special things makes me feel sick inside. I just wish I had the film to put in the box too, but that will have to wait.

  I wrap the box inside one of Mike’s old workbags, so that it doesn’t get ruined in the rain, and press my hand to my chest where Kirsten’s pendant is. My heart beats through the metal and I know that I can’t take it off. It’s a part of me now, just like the ache in my stomach when I think about what could have been. If I keep it on, then they can’t find it. I just need somewhere for my special box to go and immediately the warehouse comes to mind. Gillian Gilbert smiles down in agreement from the poster.

  When I open the front door, the wind pushes against me and I pull my coat up high around my neck. The trees flick sideways and the wind rips through the leaves as I make my way to the river. A flash of black in the corner of my eye as a bird flies past makes me wonder what else is out there in the storm, but I don’t let it stop me. I have to go now.

  I make the mistake of looking at Stefan’s house and see him standing by the bedroom window, but I put my head down and run down the road.

  The wind drags my hair across my eyes and I decide that nobody, not even Beverley Samuels, would be out on a day like today. An up-ended pub sign on the pavement says: ‘Tailfin. Playing Tonite,’ but for now the doors of the red-bricked pub are closed and the streets are empty. Dry leaves roll down the road towards me and a piece of string that held up one of the missing posters hangs wet and limp to the lamp post.

  I walk on through the woods as a police siren grows and fades against the screams of the wind. When the rain starts, I hear it first on the top canopy of the leaves before it hits me, changing the trees from a dark mossy green to a shiny brown as I run towards the warehouse under the blackening sky.

  The door of the warehouse is slightly open and it creaks as I put my hand against it. Once I’m inside, it slams shut and the noise echoes around the empty room while the rain bounces off the metal roof. As I get accustomed to the dark, I notice a red umbrella leaning against the wall under the window and some Tupperware pots. These are Mike’s things. He’s been using the warehouse just as I suggested and I press my hands together to get warm as I look around for a safe place. I go right to the back and put the box inside one of the old printing presses.

  A loud creak makes me jump and when I turn around, Stefan is standing in the doorway with his hair stuck to his face by the rain.

  ‘Shit, it’s chucking down out there,’ he says as he slams the door, with water dripping from his coat and over his hands.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘You’ve changed your tune. Leila wanted me to check you were all right. She thought someone was chasing you.’

  ‘Leila?’

  It feels good that she still cares.

  ‘It’s not your mum’s boyfriend, is it?’ he asks as he looks back at the door.

  ‘What are you on about? Where’s Leila?’

  ‘She saw you run past our house.’ He shrugs. ‘Still, you’re all right so…’

  He turns to go.

  I knew she still cared.

  ‘Where is she?’ I look behind him, half hoping she’s going to come in, but she doesn’t.

  ‘At home.’

  He says it as if it’s their home and I hate him for it.

  ‘I’ll sort him out if you want me to. You can tell Leila I said that.’

  I remember the way that he ran out of our house without his shoes. He wasn’t so brave when he thought Mike was really after him.

  ‘I can look after myself,’ I say as I move away from the printing press.

  ‘Yeah, I know.’

  He looks behind me, to see what I’ve been doing, so I put my hand on the back of his head and pull him towards me. He opens his mouth to say something, but I press my lips against his before he can speak.

  ‘I’m with Leila,’ he says as he takes a step back.

  I look around at the empty room. ‘No, you’re not. You’re with me.’

  He rolls his eyes and I kiss him again, but harder. His lips are wet from the rain and his mouth is cold. He tastes of the outside and of all the times that I’ve left behind. It isn’t what I want any more, but it’s nice to feel it again for a moment. He pulls away, but I can tell he wants more. They always do.

  ‘I just came here to check you were all right.’

  ‘She won’t do it with you,’ I tell him. ‘I know what she’s like.’

  ‘Why? She frigid or something?’ Stefan looks at me with narrow eyes and bites the side of his mouth. The wind has gone quiet. He sniffs and cracks his knuckles. ‘Don’t tell her I said that. If you end up mates again.’

  ‘We’ll always be mates. You don’t get it.’

  He shakes his head. ‘You’re right. I don’t.’

  ‘Don’t follo
w me again.’

  ‘We still could…’ He nods towards the musty mattress with a half-smile, but I walk out. I knew I could have him if I wanted.

  ‘No, thanks.’

  I slam the door and walk back past the river. He leaves just after me and runs back through the woods, the way that I came earlier. It’ll be easy to get him back here when Kirsten decides she wants him too.

  I walk along the path expecting to see someone, but it’s empty. Whatever the police were doing has finished. The only sign they were ever there are the broken reeds by the bank and the deep mounds where their boots sank into the mud. Fallen twigs and branches scatter the path at the back of the industrial estate. As the rain beats heavy against the water I sense someone behind. When I turn around, she’s there, standing in the middle of the path, watching me through the pouring rain. It makes me cold right to the bone, because she’s dressed in black like the shadows of the trees. The water pours over her face as though it’s coming out of her. It takes a second before I realise that it’s Beverley Samuels. I turn sideways towards the woods, but the undergrowth is too thick to get through.

  ‘Wait!’ she shouts as she walks towards me.

  I pull my coat around me and wonder if she’s followed me from home. I don’t wait for her questions; I just start to talk.

  ‘I just wanted to get out of the house.’

  The heavy rain bounces off her coat, but she doesn’t care. She’s focused on me and it feels as if she’ll do anything to find out what happened to Maxine and Kirsten. For the first time, I’m afraid of her and I wonder how long she’s been watching: if she was in the woods or saw me go into the warehouse. I start to worry about my special things and wish more than anything that I hadn’t taken them there now. The thought of her opening the box makes me want to throw myself at her.

  ‘Hardly the weather for it,’ she replies as the rain beats against the river.

  The water is high, noisy and fast as I blink through the rain, but Beverley Samuels doesn’t care. We’re so close to the embankment that it crosses my mind to barge into her. I look at the river and then back at her, while she follows my gaze. As the water pours over her mouth, I glance at the sharp cluster of rocks below the steep bank. It would look like an accident if she fell in here. One sharp shove and she’d be gone. The rocks shine as the current grabs a thick piece of branch and takes it towards the sewerage pipe. If there weren’t the chance that there are more police here, I’d do it in a second.

  ‘I just had to get out.’

  She frowns. ‘It’s time you told me what you know.’

  ‘What do you want me to say?’

  It’s harder to lie to her than to Dr Tibbs and the others. I try to look as though I’m vulnerable as I think of ways to distract her. I won’t be able to hide how much I hated Maxine if she mentions her, but of course she does.

  ‘You know we found Maxine’s body?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I don’t bother to look upset or to lie. She will be able to tell. I just stand in front of her as the rain soaks me. I get ready for her to grab me by the arm and handcuff me, but she doesn’t.

  ‘We found her here,’ she tells me, as though I didn’t realise.

  ‘She was a bully.’

  ‘I don’t think it was an accident. I don’t think either of them were.’

  She knows. I knew it.

  ‘Mike saw Maxine that day,’ I reply.

  ‘What are you saying?’

  She takes a step towards me and I know what I have to do.

  ‘He mentioned it,’ I tell her, trying make it look hard to say, ‘when it was on the news. Then Mum started arguing with him.’

  ‘About?’

  ‘About going to the police.’

  I look at the river and wonder if Kirsten is underneath us. I get a shiver. One hard push and she’ll fall into Kirsten’s arms.

  Beverley Samuels nods. ‘You can talk to me. You don’t need to be scared.’

  It doesn’t sound as if she thinks I did it.

  ‘Newton’s third law?’ I say.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Every action has a knock-on effect or something.’

  ‘Hayley, two girls have died.’

  ‘I need to get back before he misses me.’

  I remember all the lies I told Dr Tibbs about Mike. If you look as if you mean it, then people believe anything.

  ‘I know there’s more, Hayley.’

  ‘You know why I come here? Because it’s better than being at home with him.’ I turn away. ‘I need to go.’

  There’s a sound of desperation in her voice when she calls after me. ‘Hayley!’

  I remember the things she told me.

  ‘You know what it’s like not to have a dad. But you don’t know what it’s like to live with him.’

  She shouts through the rain. ‘Let’s get a hot chocolate. We can talk.’

  ‘Do you remember that day we met?’ I shout back, ‘You said you’d catch the bastard. So catch him.’

  I expect her to come after me, but she doesn’t. I pass the trees, where the roots feed on the water where the body was found, and head back along the path past Kirsten’s bench. The hide has totally fallen in now, twigs broken and leaves taken by the wind. All that’s left is a pile of branches where it used to stand. I keep walking until I’m back at the concrete path. Beverley Samuels wants to talk, but I can’t. I think about the conversations I had with Kirsten down here by the river. She trusted me, but it all got ruined before I could show her how much she meant to me. All I wanted to do was keep her forever and that’s not wrong. Everyone needs to be loved by someone. I used to think I loved Stefan, but I didn’t. He was nothing. Kirsten was the one and now she’s gone forever. Beverley Samuels doesn’t know anything about me. My shoe starts to let in water and the gentle slap, slap, slap, slap of my broken sole is the only sound as I make my way home.

  When I get back, my hands are shaking. It takes all my strength not to go and get my things from the warehouse. The thought of her going through the bag makes my stomach churn.

  In the living room, Mike is talking on the phone with his back to me. He’s got his best emerald-green jumper on again: the one that he used to wear on Saturdays when he’d disappear.

  ‘You’ll be amazing at the conference.’

  He puts the phone down and looks round with a smile on his face, until he sees me.

  ‘Who was that?’ I ask.

  He turns away so that I can’t see his face. ‘Sales call,’ he replies. ‘You’re dripping wet.’

  I follow him into the kitchen as he fills the kettle with water.

  ‘It was that woman again, wasn’t it? Travel agent, my arse.’

  He puts it down and frowns.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  His hair’s damp, so I know that he was out in the rain too.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Know what?’ He rubs his hand over his beard.

  I tap my nose with my finger as he starts to make some tea. I’m glad that I told Beverley Samuels about him seeing Maxine that day. He deserves it. He’s worse than me. He knows what he’s doing to Mum and he keeps doing it over and over again.

  ‘Relationships aren’t just about sex. I can speak to another woman,’ he says.

  ‘That’s all you do, then? Talk?’

  He pauses. ‘It doesn’t matter what I say. You’ve already made up your mind.’

  ‘What about our relationship? What’s that about?’

  He gives me a hard stare. ‘It’s about me and you respecting each other and doing the best for your mum.’

  I put my hand on my hip and smile. ‘Even when she was away?’

  He reaches for a mug and it slips out of his hand and breaks on the floor.

  ‘Fucking mess,’ he says to himself as he bends down to pick it up. He’s right. It is a mess. Everything.

  ‘I saw that policewoman before. She was asking about you.’

  ‘Asking what?’


  ‘Just general things. Nothing much.’

  He narrows his eyes.

  ‘They should be finding out what happened to those girls, not wasting everyone’s time. It’s bloody disgusting.’

  ‘Am I still coming to the station with you tomorrow?’

  ‘I’m going early. You’re making the floor all wet.’

  He bends down to the cupboard and I go upstairs. I turn off the light in the bedroom, so that there’s only the darkness and the sound of the rain outside. When I open the window, droplets of rain hit the ledge and meander down the wall. I hum the tune to ‘The Perfect Kiss’ and put my hand over Kirsten’s necklace, knowing that I won’t be controlled by secrets any more.

  Thunder rumbles and a lightning flash lights up the black legs of the bamboo by the fence. The outline of a figure disappears into the darkness and I squint and wait. The shape moves closer to the back door with every flash of lightning that follows. My heart beats fast; I know that in seconds she’ll be standing behind me in the shadows of the bedroom.

  I close the curtains and go into the bathroom to run a bath. When I finally slide into the water, it’s so hot that it turns my legs pink. I breathe in the steam and wait until the storm has passed. It doesn’t matter how much soap I use though, because I’m stained forever. I hear someone try the door, but when I open it there’s no one there. There’s no keeping her out now. She’s in and that’s it.

  *

  The police station is in the middle of the village shops in a converted Victorian house. Mike goes in first and I follow up the stone steps; the man behind the desk smiles as we walk in.

  ‘Afternoon.’ He nods.

  Mike’s voice sounds high as he speaks. ‘We’re here to see Beverley Samuels.’

  ‘Have a seat over there while you’re waiting.’ The policeman nods to some plastic chairs in the corner of the room.

  ‘Of course.’

  We sit down and Mike wipes his palms down the sides of his trousers as though he’s nervous. I don’t trust him. I don’t trust any of them.

  ‘It’s smaller than I imagined,’ I say. ‘Not like the ones you see on television, is it?’

  ‘No.’