The Misper

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The Misper Page 11

by Bea Davenport


  ‘But if it was someone like that, someone who was off their head,’ Zoe said, ‘why would they stop at the kitchen? Why didn’t they come into the rest of the house and pinch something? Your mobile was on the bench, but they didn’t take that.’

  I screwed up my eyes. ‘I don’t know. I don’t understand it, especially how we didn’t hear it. I think maybe Kerry banging on the front door was what made them run away.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Zoe sat back and folded her arms. ‘Funny that Kerry was there and no one else was around.’

  I shook my head. ‘But why would she do something like that? It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Kerry doesn’t make sense, full stop.’

  I gave a little laugh, though nothing really felt very funny just then.

  Zoe sat forward again. ‘Hey. Good ritual, though. I felt like there was loads of power. Did you feel it?’

  ‘I felt something,’ I said. ‘I think you’d call it “terrified”. So that was you summoning the spirits, or whatever?’

  ‘You must’ve sensed them,’ Zoe said. ‘I felt like the all the air was full of – of presence. What did you ask for?’

  ‘Umm.’ I didn’t want to tell her what I’d been thinking about. ‘I – I sort of forgot. It was all so creepy. That music kind of got into my head.’

  Zoe burst out laughing. ‘You’re telling me I woke up the spirits of the dead and you forgot what you wanted to ask them? Anna, you’re unbelievable.’

  ‘What did you ask for, then?’

  Zoe smiled. ‘Bit of a list, actually,’ she said. ‘But not all for me. I asked for Tom to get what he deserved. I asked about your mum and dad too, because I think they’re already responding to that, don’t you?’

  I nodded. ‘Sort of. It’s hard to tell with them.’

  ‘Be patient,’ Zoe said. ‘And I told them I was fed up with Kerry. I said, “who will rid us of this troublesome geek?”’

  Zoe was half-quoting something from Shakespeare we’d been doing at school. ‘Well, King Henry wished he’d never said that, didn’t he?’ I said. ‘Maybe not the best line to pinch.’

  Zoe laughed again. ‘Stop worrying. This is already working out for us. Things are happening, aren’t they? Look at your mum and dad. We just have to keep communicating with the spirits. It works, this stuff. I’ve read loads about it online.’

  ‘You don’t find it all a bit scary?’

  Zoe shook her head. ‘Not a bit. You’ve watched too many dumb films. The spirits are there to help us. And tonight – forget all that stupid stuff with the food. That was just Kerry and we both know she’s a bit mad. When we did our ritual, it was magical. Something big will happen now. I know it will.’

  14

  Luke

  The thing was, something big did happen, the very next day. For me, anyway. And it was the thing I’d been thinking about during the ritual, that I didn’t want Zoe to know. It was Saturday; both Mum and I were quite late getting up and it turned out we’d run out of milk. Mum was groaning because she’s useless without her first cup of tea in the morning. I felt a bit guilty because I knew I’d used up all the milk the previous night, so I offered to go out to the little corner shop a couple of streets away.

  I was in the shop clutching my carton of milk, half-reading the covers of some of the magazines on the shelves, when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped and turned to see Luke, standing over me with a big grin. He was wearing a big soft sweater and a really mad woolly hat that looked more like the thing that my gran puts over her teapot. If he hadn’t been so cute, he’d have looked like a complete idiot. ‘Er – like the hat,’ I said, laughing. ‘I think.’

  Luke pulled it off his head, showing his mussed-up mop of dark hair. ‘Forgot I was wearing that,’ he said. ‘My grandma knitted it and – you know –’

  ‘That’s quite sweet,’ I said.

  Luke pulled a face. I thought, well, Anna, that was a stupid thing to say. I’m sure boys hate being called sweet. Even I hate being called sweet.

  ‘I reckon you’d look better in it than me,’ Luke said, reaching out and putting the thing on my head. He pulled it down over my ears. It was really warm and had a sort of smell of him.

  ‘Trying to hide my face?’ I said.

  ‘No!’ Luke pulled the hat off again. ‘That’s the last thing I’d want to do.’

  ‘Right.’ I shifted from foot to foot. The milk carton was really cold and my fingers were getting a bit numb.

  ‘Anna,’ Luke said. ‘Er… I don’t suppose you want to go out sometime?’

  I took a deep breath in. I could feel my whole body getting kind of warm and I was fairly sure I was blushing. ‘Umm, yeah, sure,’ I said, as casually as I could make myself sound. In my head, though, I was leaping up and down and singing something like the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’. ‘What do you want to do?’

  ‘Whatever you like,’ Luke said. ‘I’m off next Thursday night. We could go to the pictures or we could go and get something to eat if you like.’

  ‘Eat?’ I said.

  ‘Great. Anywhere but the place I usually work, I’m sick of the sight of it.’ Luke gave me a massive smile. He had really kind eyes, I thought. Long eyelashes. ‘Shall I call for you?’

  I thought for a moment. ‘I’ll meet you in town,’ I suggested.

  On the way home, my insides were flipping over and over like someone had entered them in a pancake race. This was the thing I’d been wishing for last night – that Luke would ask me out. And the next morning there he was, just like that. It was too much of a coincidence, I thought. The only trouble was – I didn’t much fancy telling my mum. And I also didn’t like the idea of telling Zoe.

  I hadn’t quite worked out how I was going to word it when I met up with Zoe outside Dead Bouquet later that afternoon. I could tell before she said anything that she was in some sort of a bad mood. She was standing outside the shop and I waved at her as I walked up to meet her, but she didn’t lift a hand to respond. And when I got right up to her and said ‘Hi’, she didn’t answer, just spun around and clattered down the little steps into the shop. I followed her. ‘Something wrong?’

  She gave a shrug that was so tiny I almost missed it. I followed her over to the bookshelves and watched as she picked up the first book to hand and started flicking through it.

  ‘What’s up, Zoe?’

  ‘Anything to tell me?’ she said, not looking up from the pages of the book. Another one about magic, I noticed.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Zoe smacked the book shut and glared at me. ‘I really don’t like hearing about what my so-called best friend is up to from the likes of Kerry.’

  I felt queasy. I hate fighting with people and I couldn’t stand to fall out with Zoe. ‘What did she say?’

  Zoe pursed her lips, as if she could hardly bear to say the words. ‘Apparently my best mate and Kerry’s mega-geek of a brother are now an item.’

  ‘When did she tell you that?’

  ‘I had the misfortune to run into her on the bus. I had to suffer her all the way into town, which would be bad enough at the best of times, without her going on about you and her horrible relations.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘He only asked me out this morning. I was going to tell you this afternoon.’

  Zoe gave a snort. ‘You do realise Kerry is just about planning your engagement party?’

  I breathed out hard. ‘Don’t be daft. It’s just one date, that’s all.’

  ‘I thought you had much better taste,’ Zoe said. And that was just about all she said to me for another half an hour. I found myself hanging around the shop watching her trying on clothes and scents and chatting to Geena behind the counter, as if I wasn’t there at all. I thought about just leaving and going home. But I didn’t want to fall out with Zoe. She would be just fine without a friend – after all, sh
e’d been happy enough before I came along – that’s what Kerry said. Whereas I’d get lumbered with Kerry and we’d be the geek-girls that everyone laughed at. I was only tough and cool when I had Zoe beside me.

  ‘Come to the cafe with me,’ I said.

  Zoe shook her head. ‘Can’t. No cash.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, I’ll pay.’ I could hear the begging note in my own voice. Zoe looked as if she could take it or leave it, but she marched out in the direction of the little cafe next door.

  She was wearing a long, black, cape-style coat I hadn’t seen before. ‘No wonder you’ve got no money,’ I said, as she draped it over the back of her chair. ‘Great coat. When did you get it?’

  Zoe didn’t reply, but picked up the menu card from the table and pretended to read it. As if we didn’t know it off by heart. ‘I haven’t had any lunch, actually,’ she said. Her nails were gun-metal grey.

  ‘Get something to eat, then,’ I said. ‘I’ve got enough.’ That was even though I’d been hoping to use the money to pay half with Luke on Thursday night. I’d worry about that later. Talking Zoe round was the important thing right now.

  Zoe chose a smoked salmon bagel and a mint tea. ‘I was hoping Kerry had made it all up,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d laugh when I told you. I didn’t think it would be actually true.’

  ‘It’ll probably just be the once,’ I said. ‘We mightn’t get on.’

  Zoe narrowed her eyes. ‘Kerry said you hit it off the first time you met and that he’s wanted to ask you out for ages.’ She made a gagging noise. ‘She’s going to love this. It’ll be a chance for her to hang around with us even more.’

  Zoe was right. Of course. Kerry would use it to claim me for her own.

  So when Zoe suggested we do another ritual, I said yes straight away to please her, even though the sessions were freaking me out. We went back home with some new incense sticks and a CD. Zoe found she had a ten-pound note in the bottom of her bag that she didn’t know was there. Mum told us Kerry had called round, twice. ‘I said you’d be back later. Why don’t you give her a ring?’

  Zoe sighed.

  ‘Mum,’ I said. ‘If she calls, would you say we’re out? Please?’

  ‘Why?’ Mum frowned at me.

  ‘Because – because – oh, Mum, she’s a pain in the neck. I can’t be bothered with her tonight. Please.’

  Mum shook her head at me. ‘I’m not happy about that sort of thing. It’s not nice and I don’t like lying to the poor girl.’

  ‘Let’s just go out, then,’ Zoe suggested. ‘I mean, I know it’s raining. But we’ll be OK. We could find a bus shelter or somewhere to hang about, couldn’t we, Anna?’

  Mum rolled her eyes. ‘All right. But just this once. I’m not going to make a habit of it. This is something you need to sort out yourself.’

  Mum even let Zoe stay for something to eat. And she kept Kerry at the door while we sat in the kitchen with our hands over our mouths, trying not to snigger out loud. It was clear Kerry was being pretty persistent, but in the end, she had to take Mum’s word that we weren’t there. Mum came back inside and clattered some plates around. ‘That was awful. She said she’d seen you coming along the street. I had to persuade her you’d gone straight back out again and I don’t think she believed me. I’m not doing that ever again, girls. I felt terrible.’

  Once we were sure Kerry wouldn’t come back, we told Mum we were going to listen to music in my room. And as soon as I was sure she was sitting in front of her favourite TV programme, we closed the door, drew the curtains and set up our altar. Candles, skull, incense, a handful of graveyard earth. The knife.

  ‘You should offer some of your blood, like I do,’ Zoe said.

  I shook my head. ‘Too squeamish. Remember what I was like when we just talked about blood in biology? I nearly passed out then.’

  ‘It’s a couple of drops,’ Zoe argued. ‘The point is, you’re giving something to the spirits to thank them for helping you. It’ll take a few seconds. Come on. You have to take this more seriously. We’re not messing about here.’

  I stared down at the skull, which was a sickly yellow-white in the candle light. It still had a couple of brownish smears of Zoe’s blood from the last ritual. I couldn’t say to Zoe that actually, I only wanted to mess about. It was the seriousness of the thing that scared the life out of me.

  We started the music again, not too loud because I wanted to keep an ear out for Mum. If she opened the door and caught us, she’d have a fit. I held my hand over the skull, as Zoe said her ritual words. It started with her saying some names and calling on the spirits to help her. The names were her dad, she said, and the woman from the grave nearest to where she’d taken the soil. Then she read out more lines that sounded like a sad poem. She’d written it all herself. I had a second or two of sharp pain as Zoe dug the tip of the knife into the tip of my index finger and pressed it gently so that three drops of blood fell down onto the skull. They trickled slowly across it, like dark tears. She did the same to her own finger and the drops of blood fell onto mine. Zoe pushed my clammy hands down onto the cool smoothness of the skull. She placed her hands on top of mine and held them down. Her eyes were closed and her eyelids trembled like black moths on the pale flower of her face.

  ‘Ask for whatever you want, now,’ she whispered. ‘It will happen.’

  The music sighed sadly in the corner of the room. I tried to tell myself I was just imagining the dark shapes moving around in the corner of my vision, and the way the room seemed to be deathly cold. I squeezed my eyes shut and thought about Mum and Dad. I pushed away any thoughts of Luke.

  15

  Shadows

  Mum got engrossed in some film on TV and forgot Zoe was here. She jumped when we came down the stairs at almost midnight.

  ‘Zoe! I thought you’d gone ages ago. I can’t send you out on your own at this time of night. I’ll walk you back and apologise to your mum.’

  ‘There’s no need,’ Zoe tried to insist, but Mum wasn’t having any of it and steered her out of the back door. I cleaned my teeth, then pushed open the door to my room, flicking the light on as quickly as possible. This was supposed to be my private space, but now I hated to be alone in it. Even in the brightness, I was sure those shadows were moving just out of my line of sight – with nothing there when I turned my head to look. The air in the room still seemed thick with scent; sandalwood, vervain and lavender from the incense and that sweet, waxy smell candles leave behind when you’ve put them out. And apart from the odd car shushing past outside, there was no sound.

  I threw myself into bed and pulled the duvet up around me. I reached for a book. Zoe had lent me Gormenghast, because she’d been doing some drawings inspired by it, but I was finding it hard to get into. I settled for some poems we were supposed to read for English. It wasn’t long before my eyelids started to feel heavy, so I pushed the book aside and lay down. I drifted off, but dreamed the bed was full of filthy, grey soil, filling up my nose, ears and mouth, suffocating me.

  I jumped upright and blinked hard. When you wake up after sleeping under a bright light, your eyes feel sore and your head hurts. It felt like there was no air in the room and I could barely breathe. I pulled my legs up towards me, hugged my knees and started to cry.

  At some point in the small hours of the morning, with a pinkish sunrise sending little glowing shafts through the gap in my curtains and with the bedroom light still burning, I slept again, lying on top of the duvet. I only woke up when I heard Mum tapping on the door. I sat up, rubbed my sore eyes and padded to the door.

  ‘You OK?’ Mum handed me a mug. ‘Your light’s been on for ages so I thought you were awake. But you didn’t come down.’ She glanced at my face. ‘You look awful.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I rubbed sticky sleep out of my eyes and yawned. ‘Did you get Zoe home all right?’

  Mum pulled her dressing
gown belt a little tighter. ‘I got her home,’ she said. ‘As to whether she’s all right –’ Mum sighed and shook her head.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘That mother of hers. She’d latched the door and wasn’t going to let her in. She made her stand on the doorstep in the rain for ages and just shouted some horrible names at her out of the bedroom window. I thought I was going to have to bring Zoe back for the night.’

  Zoe still wouldn’t be dragged into talking about her mother, even after the horrible scene at Parents’ Night. Most of the time she still dodged the subject of her home life altogether. I kept telling myself she must be handling it – she’d tell me if there was a real problem, right?

  ‘She always looks as if she’s going to fall apart, that girl.’ Mum clucked and tutted for a few minutes and went down to make me some toast.

  As soon as she’d gone, a shudder went down my back, as if someone had dropped an icicle down it. I closed the door and pulled back the duvet again. There was nothing to be seen, apart from a couple of tiny bits of grit that could have come from the soles of my feet at any time. I blinked and rubbed my hands across the bottom sheet. Nothing. I sat down hard on the bed and took some deep breaths, because suddenly I felt light-headed. I thought, I must be going completely mad.

  It was a slow, dull Sunday, especially after Zoe texted to say she was grounded for being late home. But around five-ish in the afternoon, my dad turned up at the door. Unexpected. He said he’d just come to see how his little girl was doing.

  ‘You look awful,’ Mum said, for the second time that day, but this time to him. ‘What’s happened? Come on.’

  Dad tried to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about, but Mum said when you’ve been married to someone for sixteen years – even if you’ve split up – you always know when something’s wrong.

  And it turned out that he’d had this massive bust-up with Evil Ellie and she’d chucked him out. And it was her flat in the first place, so she had every right to do it.

 

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