Kiss Her Goodbye

by Susan Gee

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘We might go the Hac anyway,’ Leila replies. ‘I don’t think it’s your thing.’

  ‘Bollocks to you, then,’ I say to her.

  As I wait for her to answer I realise I’ve lost her too.

  I point at Stefan. ‘Your shoes are still at my house, by the way. From when Mike caught us in bed together.’

  Stefan’s face drops and he starts to mutter at Leila, ‘Nothing happened.’

  ‘Like when you kissed me last week in the warehouse? Didn’t that happen either?’ I ask.

  Leila’s mouth opens and Stefan holds his hands up. ‘She kissed me. I never kissed her.’

  ‘You pig,’ Leila shouts, before she gets up and runs towards the door. Stefan goes after her, but before Barbara can speak I walk away too, through the corridors, to one of the upstairs rooms to sit on my own.

  I take out my pen and score a deep hole in the wooden desk. Through the open window, the sound of skateboard wheels scraping the concrete in continuous loops grinds through my head. When laughter erupts outside, it feels as if it’s directed at me. At least when they catch me I’ll never have to come back here again. The thought of Stefan telling his friends how he slept with me by the river makes me want to punch a hole in the wall and I know that it will happen, because that’s what he’s like. He’s going to love it when he finds out what I’ve done. The only person that’s ever tried to help me here is Dr Tibbs.

  I rip out the last page of one of my books and write:

  Dear Dr Tibbs, I did want to talk, but that counsellor was terrible. Thanks for trying though.

  Before lunch has finished I put it in her pigeonhole.

  I can’t hate Leila. She’s my best friend and we can’t be separated. There’s only one way to make sure that we stay together and it must happen now. The realisation of what I am about to do is almost a relief.

  38

  Hayley Reynolds

  Fairy lights stretch across the branches of the trees by the shops as I walk back from college and the sound of a girl’s laughter reminds me of Maxine. The big tree is up in the village, with red and blue flashing lights and a silver star on the top. The end is coming. I imagine the little black plastic case sitting in the village shop, three doors down from the police station, and I wonder if they’ve opened it yet. I know that they’ll recognise Maxine when they see her. Everyone knows what she looks like now. Her face is everywhere. As I walk underneath the blinking fairy lights I realise that I don’t want them to take me away. It’s shit here, but it’s my home.

  I go past the war memorial and glance up at its Celtic cross before I run back towards my house. When I get to the top of the road, a white car pulls up and I shield my eyes from the sun to get a better look. It’s Beverley Samuels. I think about running back down the lane and into the woods, but I just stand there as if I’m on the edge of my life looking in. She doesn’t see me. There’s a part of me that wants it all to be over, but the thought of being caught makes my chest tighten and I can’t move.

  She slams the car door and walks across the road to Stefan’s house and my legs are so heavy that it takes ages before I can move again: that’s twice I’ve seen her at his house and I wonder what he’s been saying. When I get to mine there’s a Christmas card on the mat and I can tell by the writing that it’s from Dad.

  I rip it open and inside it says:

  Sandra, Joy’s parents are at: 456 Castle Street, The High Street, Brighton. Forward any mail here. Have a nice Christmas all of you. Danny.

  He hasn’t even put my name on it. Not even a hello after what he said about keeping in touch and no mention of the photographs he was going to send. I rub my finger over the indentations in the card where his hand’s been, but I can barely feel them. He’s disappearing in front of me and I was stupid to think he’d want me. He told Mum that I was the liar when it was him all along. He never tells the truth. I drop it back on the mat and let my foot smear black mud across the words.

  Inside, the hall is decorated with silver and gold lanterns and someone has wound green tinsel around the bannister. They haven’t even waited for me to put up the decorations with them. There’s the faint smell of pine and I know that they’ve bought a real tree instead of the white one we get out of the attic every year. They’re changing everything. They can’t wait to get rid of me.

  I go upstairs to watch Stefan’s house through Mum’s bedroom window. As I wait, the sky changes from grey to white as a mist creeps in from the hill. After half an hour it slides down the road. By the time Beverley Samuels leaves, the church is a blurred shadow in the distance and everywhere is hidden by fog. I run my fingers down the cold glass as it erases the trees and then the houses. I don’t even notice Mike come down the road.

  I hear Stefan’s laughter in my head and remember the smirk on Barbara’s face. My palms start to sweat and it hurts to breathe. All my control is gone and I do the only thing that I can to make things better: I pick up the phone on the bedside table and dial Leila’s number. As it rings I picture her getting up from their white leather sofa to answer it. She’ll have her leggings on and her hair will be loose, because that’s how she always wears it after college.

  ‘Hello?’ she says, and I can tell that she’s smiling. It makes me hope that things are all right between us after all.

  ‘It’s me.’

  There’s silence on the other end and I wonder who she thinks has rung her.

  ‘What?’

  My stomach aches; knowing that we’re so close, I press my lips against the mouthpiece.

  ‘Hello?’

  I pull back. The way her voice changes makes me certain of what I’m going to do. The fog moves past my window like a cloud, but I can see clearly now. There isn’t anything else I can do. This is her choice, not mine.

  ‘I need to meet you by the river,’ I say.

  Saying the words make me feel relieved, because it’s what I should have done weeks ago.

  She pauses for a moment, before she says, ‘Mum told me not to go there. She thinks it’s dangerous.’

  ‘She thinks Elton John is a genius an’ all.’

  I wait for her answer, but she doesn’t laugh with me. ‘It’s important,’ I tell her. ‘I need to talk to you face to face.’

  ‘What are you on about? Come round, then.’

  ‘I can’t tell you there. I wanted to talk at college, but you wouldn’t.’

  I’m calm, because it’s out of my control. It’s what Kirsten wants.

  ‘Look, if it’s about that stuff I told the police, then I’m sorry.’

  ‘What stuff?’ I ask.

  ‘About you and Mike.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Someone had to tell them what he’s been doing. What was I supposed to say?’

  I go silent as she breathes down the phone.

  ‘What have you told them?’

  ‘The truth? You should have told someone ages ago anyway.’

  I can’t believe she’s told them anything. I’m glad that I didn’t tell her about Kirsten now. It makes me realise what she’s really like.

  ‘It’s not about that. I need to see you though. Please.’

  It might be the last time I get this chance. Mike’s penknife weighs down my pocket and the thought of putting my fingers in her red hair makes me breathless. I’m keeping her. She’s so special that my insides hurt at the thought of not being near her again. I need to hold her so tightly that she can’t ever leave. She means so much to me.

  ‘What is it, then?’

  ‘Just meet me on the bench at the bottom of the industrial estate.’

  As I put the phone down I see Mike standing in the doorway. Even though he’s overheard me, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to get caught soon enough anyway.

  ‘You’re going to the industrial estate?’ he says. ‘It’s foggy out.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Then I’ll come with you,’ he says. ‘You can’t go walking in thi
s.’

  ‘It’s just fog. I want to be on my own.’

  ‘I don’t want you going near that river alone. I know it down there. I feel like a walk anyway.’

  He goes downstairs to put on his shoes and I follow. Before I have chance to argue with him, the sound of a car pulling up outside the house makes me worry that they’re here and I turn to Mike.

  ‘Let’s go out the back gate. It’s quicker. Before the fog gets too bad.’

  As I walk into the living room, there’s a huge Christmas tree covered in pink tinsel and coloured baubles. Silver chains and lanterns hang around the room and Mike smiles at me.

  ‘Like it?’ he asks.

  I look it up and down. It’s enormous.

  ‘It’s…’ I pause ‘…very pink.’

  His face drops. I can tell he was hoping for more.

  ‘We’re going to have a great Christmas,’ he says, and stares hopefully at the golden star on top of the tree.

  *

  Outside, the fog is thick. The silhouettes of the trees are chocolate brown against the grey mist and I can taste the dampness in the air.

  ‘I think the other way’s quicker,’ he says.

  ‘I like it this way.’

  As we walk past Mrs Green’s house it looks deserted, as it did on the night of my birthday, and I wonder if she’s sitting in the padded armchair in the corner of the room watching the net curtains.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he says.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I wasn’t myself the other day. You don’t want to know what’s been going through my head, but we need to sort a few things out.’

  He confuses me when he’s like this, because I don’t know how to take him. He wants the truth, but it’s coming anyway. It’s on a negative waiting to be processed. Even though I’m worried, the thought of the girl’s face when she sees the photographs gives me a rush. Maybe her mind will be on other things and she won’t realise what they are. I doubt it though. She’ll be ready with her stickers to put on the over-exposed photos and she’ll see. The different scenarios shift in my head as I walk. I just hope I get to see them too, whatever happens.

  ‘So, you up for a chat while we walk?’ he asks.

  ‘If you like.’

  He looks at the road instead of me as we walk towards the industrial estate; the same way we came the first time we went to the river. As we get closer, the mist thickens. The path is gone, veiled in a wall of grey fog, and he stops when we get to Kirsten’s bench. I still half expect to see her down here sometimes. It was her place as well as mine.

  ‘You’re meeting someone here?’

  ‘Leila. You can go now.’

  ‘Not that boy, then?’

  ‘I’ve had it with him.’

  He doesn’t ask me any more about it. If he were Mum, he’d give me a lecture now, but he doesn’t. Sometimes he isn’t so bad. He looks out at the fog as it licks the riverbank. A fallen tree lies on the bank, split open by the storm, its arms reaching into the river. We wait next to it, with the mist at our feet.

  ‘Well, I’m not leaving you in this. She wouldn’t have gone by the river on her own, would she?’

  ‘I doubt it.’

  ‘Come on, let’s walk that way just to check. I don’t want her to end up on the front cover of the newspaper tomorrow morning.’

  We walk until we get to the bend in the river, with the sewerage pipe just in the distance, before he turns to me as he did the first time we came here. Everything has changed since then. I thought I’d get Dad back and hoped something wonderful could happen to me. Just when I was starting to get to know Kirsten I lost her. Now, all I’ve got left is my New Order album and a pendant that nobody can ever see. The penknife weighs heavy in my pocket as he turns to me.

  ‘No sign of anyone,’ he says, but he’s wrong. The dark pipe that leads underneath the fields is opposite and someone else is here in the fog. I can feel her.

  ‘Are we all right now?’ He pauses. ‘Me and you?’

  I remember the scratch of his beard on my face and the warmth of his chest against mine and I can tell he wants to get close to me again, but in the wrong way. He wants to find out my real feelings and I take a step away from him.

  ‘You’re mum’s boyfriend, so we’re stuck with each other.’

  He sighs. ‘Not for much longer.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I think it’s over.’

  I stare at the darkness of the water and it takes me a while to take in what he’s said. The thought of him not being around makes my head sore and I’m not sure why. I want him to go, but I don’t.

  Mike steps closer to me. ‘I can’t talk to your mother. That’s not right, is it? I’ve tried, but she won’t let me in.’ He looks at me with bright green eyes. ‘I need a fresh start.’

  ‘What kind of fresh start?’

  ‘It’s not working out. She’s got too much to sort out in her head, but I want to do the right thing here.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ll tell your mum what happened that night your dad came back. It’ll be up to her what she does.’ He scratches his chin. ‘I always wanted a kid. What a mess, eh?’

  I shrug.

  ‘I thought it was a dog you always wanted.’

  He laughs as if he’s relieved, but his eyes are watery.

  ‘You’ve had a tough time. I misunderstood you. I’m sorry for everything.’

  No one has ever said that to me before.

  ‘Don’t tell her. I won’t. Nothing happened.’

  He steps closer. ‘Look, I know that—’

  ‘I said forget about it.’

  It’s strange, but I do feel relieved that it’s going to be over soon. I don’t know if it’s the lack of sleep or if I’ve just had enough, but I’m tired. Tired of everything.

  I look at the darkness under the mist and imagine Kirsten being pulled underground forever. A fresh start, like he says. Maybe I can leave her behind as he’s going to leave Mum. It feels as though we’re close at last; we understand each other and everything could turn out all right. I pull the penknife from my pocket.

  His eyes widen and I almost open the blade. I pass it to him instead.

  ‘It’s yours. I took it. Fresh start?’

  He frowns as he takes it from me, but steps closer. ‘I’ve been spending time with my ex. She’s made me realise what things could be like. We talk. You know? Nothing, well…’

  ‘Yeah.’ I put my hand to my neck and feel Kirsten’s necklace under my fingers. ‘Everyone’s got secrets.’

  He nods and puts the penknife in his pocket. ‘I’m glad we’ve done this. You mean a lot to me.’

  He looks as if he means it and it’s confusing.

  ‘Yeah, you’re OK too. For a southerner.’

  He rolls his eyes. ‘You know, I don’t think that friend of yours is coming. We should go back.’

  ‘She hasn’t been a real friend for ages,’ I tell him.

  He pats me on the shoulder and when I look up into his green eyes he looks sad. The mist is thick now. It hangs flat over the water and up the side of the bank so that the river has almost gone. If you didn’t know it was there, you might just step out and disappear forever. The black tree branches reach up from the greyness like the arms of the mummies in the museum and I know that Leila isn’t coming, but it doesn’t matter. When they come for me I won’t fight it. I’ll lie back like a twig on the water and let them take me away. I’m done here.

  39

  DS Beverley Samuels

  The photographs of Kirsten Green and Maxine Turner are on the wall behind Nick and next to them a line of Christmas cards has been hung up with a piece of string. Seeing it makes me tense, because it’s out of my hands. As I think about Mrs Green and Mrs Turner there’s a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I can’t let there be any more pictures of girls from All Saints college on that wall. It mustn’t happen.

  ‘What else?’ Nick asks.

  �
��He saw Maxine that day.’

  ‘So did a few people,’ he says as he chews the remnants of his food. Despite sitting in with me I can tell that he isn’t convinced by what I’ve been saying about Michael Lancaster.

  ‘Yes, but do they work by the river? Do they also have links to the college? Have they been acting inappropriately with teenagers? We can’t confirm his alibi.’

  ‘It’s still not enough.’

  He’s right about that. We both look at the photographs on the wall. The map behind us shows how close Michael Lancaster’s house is to where the girls were found, but it doesn’t show much else.

  ‘Hayley Reynolds isn’t safe in that house with him.’

  ‘You think she’ll talk to us?’

  I tap my fingernail against my bottom teeth. I know that she won’t tell me anything that she doesn’t want to.

  ‘Don’t think so. I knew something wasn’t right when I first met her. She’s always down by the river on her own. She told me it’s because she doesn’t like being at home. She’s scared. Her teacher said she wouldn’t even talk to the counsellor. She lost her father and now she’s ended up with him, the poor kid.’

  Nick leans forwards and I get a waft of his aftershave.

  ‘I’ll see if his car was seen. Who does he knock about with?’

  ‘Lancaster comes and goes as he chooses. The only person he’s close to is his girlfriend.’

  ‘So we speak to her again?’

  ‘Hayley’s friend said the mother thought he was involved, but you wouldn’t think it. She defends him no matter what. He’s using her to get access to teenagers and she’s in denial.’

  Nick sits back and takes a drink from the can on his desk. A droplet of lemonade sits on the corner of his lip.

  ‘I’ll have a look where he’s from. Look into his past,’ he says.

  ‘We’ve already done that.’

  ‘Not thoroughly.’

  He doesn’t know how well I looked through his records, but it won’t hurt for him to do it too. He may just come up with something new.

  ‘I’m going to speak to the neighbours on his road. Someone might have seen them together.’