by S. C. Ransom
As I tried to stretch I realised that I ached all over, and it was almost impossible to move. Even bits of me that I thought had been undamaged were hurting, and when I finally got out of bed and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror I could see bruises all down my side where I had hit the ground. There was no way I was going to make it into school. I rang the secretary’s office and left a message, hoping that they wouldn’t recognise the voice as being mine, and not my mum’s.
I gathered my laptop, my painkillers and a mug of hot milk with honey and made for the sofa, preparing to set up camp for the day. I wasn’t expecting Josh to appear much before lunchtime, so I had a few hours to try and fathom where Catherine might be and how I was going to force her to hand back the amulet. That was going to be the difficult bit. Locating her was just a logistical difficulty; persuading her to hand over her only form of defence was going to be much, much harder. I didn’t want to resort to violence like she had, although a bit of me felt that it was the least she deserved, but I couldn’t think of anything else that would give me leverage with her. I forced myself to stop worrying about that bit. Until I found her it was all academic anyway.
I settled back on the sofa and opened the Internet, waiting for inspiration. While I waited I checked the news, to see if anything exciting had happened in the rest of the world that I had missed. There was nothing that took my interest on the BBC website, so I surfed a bit wider, not really knowing what I was looking for. I was just desperate to keep busy, to not think of the gaping hole that I could feel inside me, but every time I glanced at my empty wrist the pain washed over me again. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours but I missed Callum acutely. Just knowing that I couldn’t call him when I needed him, that he wasn’t going to suddenly appear with a telltale tingle in my arm, was dreadful. And however hard I tried I couldn’t shake off the sense of melancholy that had been with me since I woke up.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I was startled by my mobile ringing, and even more surprised by the caller. “Hello, Ashley,” I said, warily.
“I’m so not surprised that you’re bunking off school today. You must be mortified that everyone has found out your little secret. And I have to say, it explains a lot!”
“What do you mean? What secret?” How could she possibly know anything? I knew that Grace wouldn’t have said a word, especially not to her.
Ashley’s laugh was brittle. “Have you not been looking at Facebook lately? The things you can learn!”
“Cut the crap, Ashley, and tell me what you’re on about.”
“It’ll be my pleasure. We’re all enchanted to learn you have an imaginary boyfriend, which is just so sweet, but also just a tiny bit disturbed, given your age.” Her tone was hugely condescending.
“What are you talking about? What imaginary boyfriend?” I tried to keep my voice steady as my blood ran cold.
“Callum! Couldn’t you have come up with a less ridiculous name?”
I couldn’t believe it. I knew that Grace wouldn’t have told anyone, so it had to be another of Catherine’s cruel tricks. But I just didn’t know what to say. If I told her he was real but living abroad I’d have the same problems I’d had with Grace, and I couldn’t tell her the truth. I did the only thing possible: “I’m not going to discuss this with you, Ashley,” I said and cut her off. Before she could call back to crow some more, I quickly dialled Grace’s number, the only one I had committed to memory. She must have been in a class as it went straight to voicemail.
“Grace, it’s me. Call me as soon as you can. Just had Ashley on the phone, loving telling me about Callum, my imaginary boyfriend. Do you know what’s going on? Please, call soon!”
I slumped back on the cushions, exhausted and drained. I couldn’t believe it. Catherine had found yet another way to hurt me, this time using my friends. And still I had no idea why she was doing all of this, and until I found her, I had no way of making her stop. I felt so impotent, so helpless. She could be absolutely anywhere. She had all my money, so she could travel. She probably couldn’t leave the country as she wouldn’t have a passport, but otherwise she could be on a train to any part of the country, well away from the Dirges and me. I could feel the self-pity creeping up on me again, imagining her face and how pleased she would be to see me lying on the sofa like an invalid.
It was that image that did it. I was doing exactly what Catherine wanted, wallowing in grief and misery. I sat up abruptly, wincing at the pain the sudden movement caused. There was no way she was going to win. No way. I was going to find her and I was going to get my amulet back, even if it meant me knocking her out to do it. I limped to the kitchen and threw away the remains of the hot milk. I needed strong coffee.
As I waited for the kettle to boil I decided that I had two distinct problems: finding out where she lived, and finding out what she wanted. She had clearly hated me from the minute that she came over; my troubles had started at exactly the same time that she had gone missing from the hospital. At the pub she had said that she wanted me to suffer, but had given me no idea why. I could only imagine that it was something in my past that she didn’t like, some aspect of my life with Callum. Could she be jealous, I wondered. Perhaps she wanted to keep her brother to herself, or safe from the pain that falling for a non-Dirge would inevitably bring? But none of those options made sense, as she didn’t seem to care about him at all.
I sighed. I was getting nowhere with motivation. Perhaps I would have more luck with location. I realised with a sinking feeling that I was going to have to log on to Facebook and see what rumours she had been spreading; there might be some clues to her location in the things she had said. I set up my laptop at the kitchen table, opened the French doors to bring in some fresh air, and took a deep breath as I started to scan my Web page. It was even worse than I had feared. There was a huge amount of chatter that morning, mostly among Ashley’s little cohort of friends, all of it poking fun at me. I was surprised that so many of them had had the time to do it before school had started.
In the end I gave up reading it; a lot of it was unpleasant, and although there were some efforts by a number of my real friends to try and add a note of reason, they were being shouted down. Instead I focused on trying to find Catherine’s comments and started scanning my friends’ new contacts.
It was astonishing how many people we were now all connected to, most of whom we didn’t really know at all. I didn’t check Grace’s profile; I didn’t think Catherine would risk trying to get close to her. But she would enjoy getting close to Ashley, I knew. What better? Befriending someone who loathed me would suit Catherine down to the ground. I quickly pulled up Ashley’s profile page and started looking through all her contacts. And there, halfway down the page, was a likely suspect. Catherine River – the irony of it made my mouth almost twitch in a smile – had started talking to her a few days ago. I opened Catherine’s page – she hadn’t bothered to hide her profile at all – and sat back in triumph. There was no picture, but the location given was Surrey, and all the activity on her brand-new account was in the last few days. And the further I dug back, I could see that she was the person who had first started the rumours about Callum.
Having got a name I was able to search a bit more thoroughly. I didn’t think she would try and carry off multiple names; the risk of mucking it up was far too high. So I searched all the social websites to see what I could learn.
Catherine River had appeared out of nowhere a few days before. She knew which of my friends would accept any old invitation to connect and had targeted them first, and once she was in the circle she had made some chirpy, funny comments and gathered a load more people around her. Her story was that she had been in the area when she was little and had known a lot of the girls at infant school. She had recently moved back and was keen to reconnect with her old friends. She knew more than enough about the school to be convincing, even though none of them would have remembered her name. But what do you really remember in detail from
when you were only seven? It was an inspired ploy. And as my friends had been told that they’d known her, Catherine had been welcomed with open arms. And once she had been accepted, she had started dropping her bombshells about my imaginary boyfriend. I couldn’t begin to imagine what she might come up with next. I had to find her and stop her.
Her Facebook page said she was in Surrey, but that was bound to be a lie. The only thing I knew for sure was that Catherine knew what I knew. She had the same memories, the same knowledge as I did, so logic would dictate that she would be somewhere where I had been. She seemed to enjoy tormenting me, so that might keep her somewhere local, and if she had the amulet she didn’t need protecting from the Dirges; she didn’t need to be travelling away. The more I thought about it the more likely she was going to still be around the area somewhere.
I sat back from the table, sipping the coffee and starting to feel the sharp buzz it always gave me. Somewhere local, I reasoned, watching the dust motes float lazily in the sunshine, hoping for inspiration. As I let my thoughts skip randomly a fractured memory crept into the back of my mind. There was something vital, something I had missed, that was nagging at me. I tried to keep relaxed, to let it work its way into my consciousness. I could see Catherine in my mind’s eye, her face carefully blank, but I couldn’t tell where she was; I just knew it was somewhere really familiar. I sighed in frustration. Better to get on with something else then, and see if the thought sneaked back to me when I wasn’t expecting it.
Unfortunately I quickly realised that I wasn’t physically up to much that day. The longer I sat still, the worse the aches and pains became, but moving around to loosen up was unbelievably painful. I resigned myself to a day of research and of missing Callum before I went to tackle her. If I was going to have to fight, I was going to need to be able to move.
After a few hours on my laptop my energy began to fade. I wasn’t sure what was in the painkillers, but I was feeling incredibly sleepy. All too soon I was back on the sofa and drifting off again.
I woke with a start after an hour or so, full of the same sense of gloom I’d had earlier. At least I hadn’t been crying again, I consoled myself. The nagging thought was back though, that I was missing something vital, something really important. I sighed in frustration and thought about moving. I stretched carefully, checking my injuries. They didn’t feel quite as bad as they had earlier, so I tried a little more, swinging my legs off the sofa and standing up slowly. As long as I moved my head gently, that wasn’t too bad either. I decided it was time to take stock of the damage, and shuffled out to the hall where there was a full-length mirror.
I couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath as I saw myself. My cheekbone had a dark-purple bloom that was studded with lines of scabs where the gravel had caught me. The edges were just beginning to turn a lovely shade of green. The lump on the other side of my head was still hidden by my hair, but I could feel it every time I opened my mouth. But worst of all was hidden under my T-shirt. I lifted the baggy sleeve and looked in horror at the imprint of the golf club, a hideous, livid, blue-ish colour. I shuddered at the thought that the blow had been intended for my head. She really had aimed to kill.
“Alex! Look at you! We have to report this to the police; you can see the golf club really clearly. If Mum and Dad see that…” Josh had crept down the stairs without me noticing, and had seen my arm. I hastily pulled the sleeve back down.
“Looks worse than it is, honestly,” I smiled at him weakly. “And you promised not to tell them just yet.”
“I know, but you can’t let her get away with it!” He pulled me towards him in a protective but careful hug. “She has to be taught a lesson.”
I patted his arm and drew away. “Thanks, Josh, for being so concerned, but I’ll sort it out.” I couldn’t deal with sympathy. “She’ll get what she deserves, I promise you,” I added grimly.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m still working on that,” I admitted, “but she’ll regret it.”
“Well, you be careful. She clearly has no conscience at all. Do you know where to find her?”
“Not right now, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to track her down.” I could see the puzzled look on his face in the mirror as he stood behind me. The thought of Callum standing in exactly that position distracted me for a moment.
“How?” Josh prompted.
“Oh, well, she seems to know some friends from school, so I’m hoping to be able to lean on them for some information.”
“I hope you’re going to tell them all who did this to you, then she’ll see who her friends really are.”
“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” I said slowly. Maybe that was the leverage I could use. If she was keen to have some ready-made friends she would know and care that I could turn them against her in an instant. It all hinged on whether she did actually care though, but it was something. I began to feel a glimmer of hope. “She wouldn’t like that at all. And these bruises should be nice and colourful tomorrow.”
“That’s an understatement,” said Josh. “You’ll look like a piece of bad modern art by then.” He turned me around so that he could look directly at me. “Remember, whatever you do, be careful. Psychopath is too kind a word for this girl.”
I shuddered a little as I nodded in agreement. He was right.
“OK, well, as long as that’s all sorted, what are you making me for lunch?” His tone was deliberately jovial, trying to help me feel better.
“In your dreams! I’m an invalid. I can’t possibly be expected to make a gourmet feast,” I replied as lightly as I could manage, trying to match his mood.
“I suppose that means that it’s beans on toast again, then,” he agreed stoically, turning to the kitchen.
I decided to press home my advantage while I had one. “Perfect. Just bring mine through when it’s ready. I’ll be having a little lie down.” I could see him hesitate in mid-stride, but I knew that he wasn’t going to throw something at me, not this time. I even managed a small smile as I carefully made my way back to the comfort of the sofa.
During the afternoon I worried about how Grace was handling things. She had done really well the day before, but I was sure that she was going to have a million more questions.
I texted her to see when she would be free, and she was round almost immediately. I had forgotten that we had very few lessons on a Wednesday and that she would be able to get out early. Within about twenty minutes of getting my text she was knocking on the front door. I’d meant to put some make-up over the more livid of the bruises, but there was no time. She looked grim as she saw my face.
“You look even worse now; I’m not sure that cover stick will do much good,” she said, putting her make-up back into her handbag. “It looks more like you need bandages and plasters.”
She was still furious that Catherine had taken my bracelet, and annoyed that I had no intention of going to the police. “But she’s stolen it from you, Alex. You just can’t let her get away with it,” she said, sitting on the edge of the sofa, her delicate frame tense. “I mean, you know it was her, why can’t you shop her to the police? They’d never believe her if she told them the truth.”
“But with the stuff she knows she could easily convince them that I was working with her. I mean, how else would she know all that personal information? And what if she runs off? If the police take her away? I’ll never get the amulet back then.”
“I suppose,” she sighed. “It’s just so wrong!”
“Tell me about it,” I agreed. “She absolutely has to be stopped. So, has much stuff been going round school about me today?”
Grace looked glum. “It’s not good. Ashley’s really got it in for you, and is gleefully telling everyone who stands still long enough. All our friends are defending you like mad, of course, but we can’t get away from the fact that you have been behaving a bit … oddly these past few weeks.”
“I suppose that’s all I can hope for, at least until
I get back on my feet and can defend myself. But in the meantime, I need to find Catherine. That has to be my priority. If I can find Catherine I can get my amulet back.”
“Well, I can help you with that. I’d like to give her a piece of my mind too.” She paused for a second, waiting to get my full attention. “And I have a plan!” She was looking very pleased with herself.
“Really? What is it?”
“Well, she sent me a friend request yesterday. It was waiting for me when I got home and logged on.”
“Did you accept it?”
“I wasn’t going to at first, but then I wondered if it might be quite useful to have a little route in.”
“So? What happened?”
“We ended up having quite a long chat online last night, her telling me where she remembered everyone from, and reminding me that she knows lots of details about my past. If I didn’t know how she knew it all it would have been too much. Luckily she doesn’t seem to have an ‘off’ button; with encouragement she just kept going.”
“And? Where is she? Did you find out?”
“Ah, well, no. I did ask quite a few times but she’s pretty slippery and managed to avoid answering. She did, however, agree to meet me in the pub tonight!”
“Really! Oh, Grace, that’s brilliant! What’re you going to do?”
“Obviously I’m not going on my own. That would be stupid, given what she’s capable of. I thought I’d take Jack, if you think it would be OK.”